The Empty Master
by Praetoritevong
Summary: A tragedy as one boy's emotional war ends up with drastic consequences...
1. The Wandering Soul

CHAPTER 1-A WANDERING SOUL  
  
Mark Witsinski strutted over to his mirror, looking at his reflection. He liked what he saw. He combed his majestic blond hair, removed some eyelashes from his sparkling green eyes, and then combed his hair again. Mark had always loved himself. He was a tall and dashing young man. He made friends easily, and kept them easily too, despite his attitude, as most could not resist his smile, not even his grandfather.  
  
He had one especially good 'friend', Joseph Maros. Their friendship was not an equal one however. Joseph looked up to, and respected, Mark. Mark was the superhero, and saw Joseph as the useful sidekick, or the grunt, which did the boss's bidding. Then again, recently Joseph had been less inclined to obey Mark. "I don't like this," thought Mark. "Joseph has recently been following me less, and come up with more ideas of his own. He's been good at things I never knew he was." Like the person he was, he hated not being the centre of attention. And these days Joseph was in his eyes the teacher's pet. He was always tidy too, something Mark never was.  
  
Looking around the room, he grimaced. His room was worse than usual. A half empty bottle of coke stood on top of his desk, along with his homework, and dozens of books. His bookshelf was a mess too, covered with slime and goo of every sort, and several post-it notes depicting his dream battles with Gym Leaders. In his wardrobe was every thingamajig imaginable. Toys, pens, paper, games, sweets, equipment of every kind. And the photo album, the only thing left with any connection to his parents lay open on the floor, several photos lying some distance from the album.  
  
What had happened to his parents was a mystery. One day they were at home, the next day only his grandfather was here, who would only say that they had gone away. Although he would never admit it, people would tell you that he changed, just as quickly as his parents had left. In some ways, he was happy, in others, he was empty. Confused. He could not find his dream, as a teacher once told his grandfather. It was only in times of remembrance like this that any fragment of him was at peace, complete. There was a burning desire in him, wild and untamed. What he did with it was the key. Deep in thought, the sound made him react violently.  
  
"Rrraaaaawwwwwkkkkkk rrraaaaawwwwwkkkkkkkk" The shrill cry of the Fearow rang out, making Mark jump and hit his head on an ornamental shelf. With this, his moment of tranquility and peacefulness disappeared and his usual character emerged again. Seeing his grandfather's Fearow, silhouetted by the lazy morning sun, he ran to the window and threw a slipper at it.  
  
"Disturb me while I'm thinking will you, you stupid bird?! I always told Gramps to put you in a cage, and now he'll have to listen!" he shouted.  
  
"Rrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwkkkkkkkkk!" came the screeching reply. With that, it started ignoring Mark and preening itself. Needless to say, this made Mark a tad angry.  
  
"I don't care what you want, I'm going to be a trainer today after I pass the final test at the new Pokemon Trainer's School here in New Bark Town, and you will obey my every command!" he yelled at the poor Fearow. "Gramps is weak. What good are six level 60 plus pokemon if you they don't obey you completely and you don't use them? Gramps always wanted the 'simple life'. Pah! I'll show him, and the world!" he muttered to himself.  
  
For today was the day of his final exam which would get him his pokemon license. It was the tradition of the PTS for the students to fight their masters with their own pokemon, so that they would be better than the old generation. He smiled at the thought of their faces when they realised the power that he had. With that thought in mind, he packed for the day ahead.  
  
After silently eating his breakfast, he roughly shook his grandfather to wake him up. "What an idiot," he thought. "He's like that guy in the lumberjack song, but not only does he sleep all night but he also sleeps all day! Gramps!" he yelled loudly. "Get up and give me your six pokemon, and tell them to obey me like they obey you! Gramps! It's my exam day today, so they'd better not make any mistakes! Gramps!  
  
After what seemed like an age, his grandfather awoke. "So this is how you treat an old man, after all he's done for you?" he wheezed. "When I was young, we never questioned our elders. They were our superiors. They expected our obedience. It seems the young are getting more and more unruly these days! And the name's Paul, not Gramps!" He stopped tiredly and waited. "Well?" he asked after a few seconds, still feeling exhausted.  
  
Mark simply gave his most charming smile, knowing full well his grandfather would do as he wanted. "Of course Gramps. You know what I want, Gramps." He said, still smiling, more gently, but waiting for the effect of his smile. Paul must have been sleepier or more tired than usual, because it only took a moment to convince him. Indeed, at closer inspection, he looked paler, and more frail than usual. In his mind, Mark started to feel anxious, though he would never admit it to anyone, not even to himself privately. He tried to console himself by thinking that of course he was all right; he was just more tired than usual.  
  
Paul interrupted his thoughts, slowly saying "Yes, yes.. Of course I know." He sighed. "And it's Paul! Now, here are my pokeballs, remember, you'll need to polish them so that they are as shiny as my trophies there. Always use..." He stopped as he noticed his beloved pokeballs weren't in his hand anymore. Then he heard the front door being opened, and Mark's usual "bye Gramps!" Paul lay down again, proclaiming "youths!" before falling asleep once more. 


	2. The Argument

CHAPTER 2-THE ARGUMENT  
  
On an adjacent street, halfway down, was a small brick cottage. It had a blue veranda with a clean and spotless medieval style wooden rocking chair. There was a shiny emerald green rooftop, and blood red walls, contrasted only by the dull grey door, upon which a golden sign was nailed, which simply read 'Maros'. Why the Maros family chose such a contrasting range of colours for their house was a mystery. Why no-one has stolen the rocking- chair by now is also a mystery, for they had been living here for ten years. It was a quiet street, mostly without cars.  
  
But this morning, the silence was violently disturbed by the sound of an abnormally loud ring from a phone in the house, followed by the sound of loud footsteps, panting, and something crashing to the floor. Inside, there was a voice speaking. "Good morning, this is the Maros residence. Oh Mark, it's you!" exclaimed Joseph, quite out of breath, for he had been frantically charging down hallways and looking in rooms for the accursed runaway wireless phone.  
  
"Wake up, sleepy-head! So did you like my slight modification of the musical qualities in your house?" asked Mark smugly. He was laughing silently as he imagined the look on Joseph's face right about now. Joseph always got up later than he did, so it would have given him one heck of a shock!  
  
"So it was you! I suspected as much. I suppose you did it when you went to 'fix' my wires yesterday?" asked Joseph warily. "You made me knock over my mum's vase! Don't EVER do that again, you hear me?" he exclaimed, suddenly unreasonably angry. Although they were friends, Joseph had always liked and admired Mark. But recently, Mark seemed more.. radical, and alien. He had grown more wary of him.  
  
"Then again, some people can't appreciate true musicianship" he said in a fake and snobbish voice. "Well boohoohoo. Go have a fat cry, why don't you! That's pathetic." He changed his voice subtly into his most convincing and sweet voice. "You can always get another vase you know. We have lots of spare time now that we're about to graduate. So come on. I'll be waiting for you on Johto Boulevard. Don't take too long" And with that, he signed off, and Joseph was alone in the room.  
  
He sighed and slowly walked back to his room. He knew that that voice was a deceptive and coercive voice. But Mark's voice was law to most, and he used that to his advantage. Joseph liked that in a way, and had thought of him as smart and eager. So what had changed? He'd have to think about that later.  
  
Joseph quickly wolfed down his breakfast of two eggs and three pieces of buttered toast, and with a quick goodbye, slung his green bag with his three pokemon in special handmade yellow and blue pokeballs over his right shoulder and ran off to meet Mark.  
  
Mark was waiting more patiently than usual today, smiling in thought. "He's probably thinking about how he's going to beat the gym leaders" thought Joseph. Mark was leaning against a brown fence, wearing a black t-shirt with a picture of a Dragonite about to unleash a hyper beam, crumpled blue jeans and flaming red shoes. "Just like him, too!" thought Joseph.  
  
"So what kept you, Joseph?" asked Mark, for once actually sounding genuinely interested. "Never mind, never mind, you're here now, that's what matters." interrupted Mark cheerfully before Joseph could utter a word. "You haven't forgotten your pokemon have you?" he inquired. "GOOD! Because we're gonna beat the stuffings out of the teachers! Aren't we!" he yelled, suddenly changing character.  
  
"Yeah." came the muttered reply. Joseph knew that occasionally Mark was subject to changes of character like that, but when they came, it always startled him. The change was so... Sudden, violent, even. Joseph did not know why that happened, but that was another thing to think about later.  
  
"I'm SO going to kick them! The teachers are in for a big surprise!" crowed Mark happily, already shaking with excitement. "The look on their faces when they realise I've brought my strongest pokemon.. Two three on three battles. And you know who I'm using?" asked Mark gleefully.  
  
Joseph sighed. He had a bad feeling about Mark's coming battles. "Oh blast it!" he thought angrily. "Mark had probably just caught some level 35 Starmie or something. What am I worried about?" Or at least that's what he told himself, though the truth be told, not what he believed. "What? Your Muk? Your Omastar? Or is it a new pokemon you just caught?" he asked, not quite sure whether he should have opened his mouth in the first place. But nothing prepared him for the answer that came from Mark, which shocked him beyond belief.  
  
"Gramps' pokemon, of course, what else?" He exclaimed smugly. "The teachers won't stand a chance. Dragonite, Fearow, Gyarados, Victreebell, Raichu and Charizard. With them obeying me, it won't be long before I am champion! They're all level 60 plus pokemon; the teachers' pokemon are only on level 25! And to think they call themselves teachers! Pah! And he spat aggressively on the ground in disgust. "Pathetic!" he exclaimed.  
  
Joseph was astonished. "What??!! You know you shouldn't use someone else's pokemon, not even your grandfather's!" he exclaimed to a bored Mark. "It's almost like an unwritten contract that you cannot use another's pokemon, taboo. It's just not honourable, not right! Others have worked and trained hard with these pokemon, and now you take advantage of that, even if it is your grandfather's pokemon! In fact, no-one in the history of the Pokemon Trainers' School has ever done so! You'll be dishonouring the school's name! There's no skill in this!" He argued.  
  
All this time, Mark had not really been listening, walking as if there was no-one there. He even let off a loud yawn, which particularly annoyed Joseph. But this last remark really hit the mark, and Mark was annoyed. "No skill!" He raged. "When I control all those pokemon, and stand as the most powerful trainer, then we will see who has no skill!" He crowed.  
  
Joseph could not believe what Mark had said. To him, pokemon were pals, and not just tools! He would never think about pokemon the way Mark was. Possibly for the first time in his life, he was angry, truly angry at Mark." You stuck-up jerk! I don't know why I hang around you! You think the world exists for you! Pokemon are more than tools designed for your self- benefit! Why can't you see that? You're just a typical, selfish idiot." He yelled suddenly. The anger then left him suddenly, just as suddenly as it had taken hold of him.  
  
Mark saw this, and naturally took advantage of it, using his knowledge of Joseph to throw him off his case. "Oh!" he said quietly." So that's what you feel eh? After all I've done for you, and you ditch me like this. Man!" he continued, smiling inwardly. "Well, I've just had enough of you, so you can just go by yourself on your pokemon journey. If you even pass today, that is!"  
  
Joseph immediately regretted arguing with Mark. "Wait!" he cried. "I didn't mean what I said. Well, I sort of did, but. You're still my friend, I was only trying to help..." he stammered.  
  
"I'm still your friend!!??" roared Mark. "Well, you've sure got a funny way of showing it! Insulting me like this. I'm hurt, Joseph Maros! Friends don't do such things!" And with that, he proceeded to the PTS alone, leaving Joseph stammering and gaping for a long time. In fact, he was late arriving.  
  
In the meantime, Joseph was still having a hard time comprehending what had just transpired. With one sentence, he had lost his best friend. Bearing that knowledge, that heavy burden in some ways, he slowly resumed the walk to school. 


	3. The Massacre, Part 1

CHAPTER 3-THE MASSACRE, PART I  
  
Mark hurried to school, in case Joseph followed him. "Who needs him anyway? I can get all the friends that I want!" he thought angrily. But despite all his bravado, despite all his hard talk and everything he said, and wanted to believe, the truth was, he did not believe. HE needed Joseph. Without Joseph, not only did he feel alone, with no-one to order around, but, as much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, Joseph cast a certain aura around him, of peace and friendliness. This, Mark needed badly, and that fact was obvious too to those around Mark everyday.  
  
Mark stopped for a moment to look around. The street had never seemed so quiet for him without Joseph by his side. There were still cars, red ones, green ones, Porsches, Mercedes and Fords, bikes, big and small, bright and dull, and young children playing various games on the road. The birds were singing prettily, the wind attacking and tearing at the beautiful evergreens harshly, yet it still seemed so quiet. He sighed and wondered what he had just done. He needed time to think, yet now was not the time. He hurried to school.  
  
Meanwhile, a few streets back, Joseph slowly waddled along, with, though of course he didn't know it at the time, the same thoughts in his mind. It was so noisy outside, yet at the same time so quiet, without Mark's constant ordering, talking and laughing. He needed Mark. Even though Mark did not treat him very well, and often used him for his own purposes, Mark was still his friend, although Joseph could not explain to anyone, not even himself, why. He added that thought to his suddenly growing list of things to think about, and picked up his walking pace.  
  
Both boys arrived just in time, with Joseph running through the school gates only about thirty seconds after Mark did, entering just before the shrill sound of the bell was heard, which signaled the start of the school day and the commencement of the final exams. Joseph ran through the garden, through the hallways and arrived just as the teacher, Mrs. Janua, started the roll call, earning a disapproving, yet strange look from her knowing green eyes, but no punishment.  
  
Author's Note: Janua would be spelt in Latin as 'Ianua', which means 'door', and that happens to be one of my favourite Latin words at the moment. :D :D  
  
Mrs. Janua looked to the doorway and was surprised at what she saw. There stood Joseph Maros, looking as glum as a prisoner waiting to be executed. "First Mark, now Joseph too.." She thought. "Something is definitely not right at the moment." Indeed, Mark, who usually enjoyed being the centre of attention, and the class clown, was sitting alone in a corner, perhaps looking sadder than even Joseph. If the stony faces continued, she might have to talk to one of them. As events transpired, she never got the chance.  
  
Meanwhile, another teacher, Mr. Sae, was putting up a poster with the order of battles, his long black hair flying around as a result of the wind as he was doing so. The PTS in New Bark Town was quite large as it had a lot of open space, without the many industrial buildings other cities have. Both boys went to look at the poster at the same time, which showed that Mark was to battle first on arena two, and then last on arena 1 after lunch. Also, Joseph was to battle second on arena five, and then first on arena three after lunch. Just as the two boys were about to leave to begin preparations, they noticed each other.  
  
"I.. Well..." they both said quietly, then stopped when they realised the other was saying the same thing. An awkward silence ensued. "Not now, later" they both agreed, again in unison. It was ironic in that this was the only time they had agreed to something as equals, when they were no longer friends. And, temporarily satisfied with that, they left to prepare for their battles.  
  
Two minutes later, in the locker room, Mark had turned back into his old self again. "Alright!" he yelled to nobody in particular. "I will win this. I will crush them! They will see how great I have become! Raichu, Charizard, Fearow. You'll battle first," he said, looking at the pokeballs, "so you'd better not mess up! Gyarados, Victreebell, Dragonite, the same goes for you. Don't let me down!" he warned, and with that, he left for his first fight.  
  
He arrived at arena two, walking slowly and confidently. The arena, or rather all of the arenas to be more precise, was the same. They all had the basic white outline of a normal pokemon arena, with dust, no more, no less as the sole feature of the natural environment. The referee was already there with a clipboard in hand, ready to introduce both competitors.  
  
At that time, unbeknownst to Mark, a figure perched in the trees was watching him. This figure was none other than Joseph. He still did not feel comfortable watching the battle from the sidelines as many students were, and he was not keen on doing so anytime soon, especially since him and Mark's awkward confrontation. But the result of that meeting did not fix the problem, only delayed it, and Joseph knew that well. If anything, that made it worse for Joseph, and though he didn't know it at the time, Mark too. He frowned, and decided to concentrate instead on watching the battle for the time being.  
  
"This is a three on three pokemon battle, between Mark Witsinski and Mr. Meenic, with no time limit," announced the referee, who now had two flags, one green and the other red, with one in each hand and the clipboard now lying on the ground.  
  
Mark looked over at Mr. Meenic's thin, tall form. Mr. Meenic had charming blond hair, much like Mark's hair, and hazelnut eyes shining with confidence, determination and an invincible flame. Mark smiled. "Ready to lose?" he asked, breathing hard in anticipation. He reached for the first pokeball on his belt, with Fearow in it, and prepared to battle.  
  
On the other side of the arena, Mr. Meenic was smiling too. "I don't think so. I'm not here to lose, nor is it time for the young to pull me down yet! You've got a hard battle ahead of you, boy! Prepare yourself!" he replied.  
  
"Begin!" shouted the referee, and so began the last exams.  
  
Amidst the yelling and cheering of the crowd gathered around the arena, Mark threw his first pokeball. "Go, Raichu!" yelled Mark. From the pokeball burst bright red energy, which revealed the petite form of Raichu. Although small, everyone knew this pokemon contained a powerful electric charge, and was a formidable opponent. It let loose a cracking array of sparks from its electric sacks on its cheeks, impressing everyone, including the opponent. As well as its obvious punch, it was, compared to the average Raichu, physically impressive too.  
  
"Ah, a Raichu hey? Well, at any rate, it looks well trained. Heh, looks like I won't beat you as easily as I thought!" he said cheerfully. "Let's rock and roll! Goooo Machoke! Show him the real meaning of strength!" he said, as he released his own pokeball. Machoke flexed its muscles as a warm- up, and roared loudly towards the heavens. Although slightly smaller than Mark, this pokemon obviously had a lot of brute strength. "I'll let you make the first move" he continued quietly. "Don't go easy on me. Now show me what you've got!" he challenged.  
  
Mark just laughed. "Go easy on you?!" he scoffed. "When I'm done with you, you'll wish I'd gone easier! Ha! Well, as you wish. Raichu! Fill the arena with Zap Cannon attack!" he ordered. But Raichu shook its head, clearly meaning that it didn't know zap cannon. "What?! You mean Gramps never taught you zap cannon? But that's the strongest electric move! Alright then, thunder!" he cried. But again, Raichu shook its head. "You're JOKING!" shouted Mark angrily. "Gramps didn't teach you that either? Gees! Did he teach you thunderbolt then?" he asked half angrily, half cautiously, as he did not want to be embarrassed like that again. Around him, the crowd was laughing its head off, pointing and mocking him. At the affirmative nod, he yelled "Shut them up with a thunderbolt attack!" Raichu charged up the electrical energy, jumped high in the air, and filled the entire arena with a powerful electrical surge. So experienced was it from may years of battling and training, however, that not one spark ventured outside the arena, but flooded the entire arena, before Raichu ceasing the onslaught and safely landing on the ground.  
  
The whole crowd stopped its jeering and leering, and stared. When the last of the sparks had died away, Machoke was still in the exact same position as it was at the start. Then, slowly, its body, paralyzed by the magnitude of the currents, started to sway, and sway, and sway until it toppled over. For Mr. Meenic, it seemed such a long time, as if the world had been put into slow motion. Then, for him, normal time resumed and he ran to his fainted Machoke, fighting off tears. Everyone was still silent, and the ruffling of Mr. Meenic's cloak and his blond hair flying in the wind could be heard easily as he returned Machoke to its pokeball, stood up, and quietly returned to the edge of the arena. It was a while before he felt confident enough in his voice to speak.  
  
"Well, you've beaten my Machoke. But this battle is far from over." He said quietly. Then, remembering he was a teacher and was meant to instruct pupils, he spoke again, his voice still soft. "You really should know your pokemon's moves, Mark. That is one of the basic principles to pokemon training-know your pokemon. I would have attacked, except that I gave you my word that you would have the advantage of attacking first. Next time..." he stopped, leaving students to formulate their own ideas on what would have happened. He also remembered something which sounded peculiar to him, but, as he was caught in the moment, could not be certain of what he said. So, he decided to wait and see.  
  
About fifty metres away, in a tree separated from the main body of trees, sat a boy, who was watching these proceedings very carefully. "So," thought Joseph sadly, "the massacre has begun." With that, he sighed, rested his head, and continued to watch that which had already begun to unfold.  
  
"Now! Let's go, Baltoy!" he cried, throwing the pokeball. From it emerged Baltoy, who was a levitating pokemon. Baltoy was one of the newer pokemon in terms of time of discovery. It had a face like that of a home-made doll, and two arches attached to the centre of the body, which could have been imitating arms, although it only had one leg. This pokemon moved while spinning on its single leg. It's origins are unknown, although there have been various rumours, suggestions, depictions and theories of different sorts.  
  
"I withdraw Raichu," said Mark, as the red beam of energy engulfed Raichu. "I choose Charizard!" he cried as he threw this new pokeball viscously. The gigantic, intimidating shape of Charizard began to form in front of Baltoy, and compared to it, was ridiculously large. At once it let loose a huge roar and a powerful stream of fire, which was felt by all, even those at the sidelines.  
  
But Baltoy did not back down, or cower, or flinch. "Good job, Baltoy. Now, attack before it does. Earthquake attack!" he ordered. Baltoy stopped temporarily, gathering energy, and then suddenly rammed the ground with astonishing force, creating shockwaves that not only rocked the arena considerably and sent people flying; they were also felt all throughout New Bark Town, a magnificent effort on the part of Baltoy, especially considering its small status.  
  
Mark had to think on his feet. "Charizard! Fly up high to avoid the shockwaves, and then release a Fire Blast!" he cried, grinning in anticipation. Charizard roared an affirmative reply and lost no time in following its master's orders. Opening its wings, it soared to great heights before starting the dive downwards. Then, when it judged it was at an appropriate distance, it charged up and then released the full fury of Charizard's fire as it released beautiful, swirling red hot flames.  
  
Baltoy, though reasonably strong, never stood a chance. For Mr. Meenic, it was déjà vu as Baltoy stood there, stunned, before falling down. Again, he ran to the centre to help his friend. This time however, Baltoy was still hot, and the touch of its skin burned him. Baltoy also managed to open its eyes and utter a pitiful drone, before it was sucked up in the vortex of red energy which took it back to its pokeball. Again, silence, as Mr. Meenic once again started preaching, talking, for him, anyway to avoid the sorrow of losing another pokemon, while another part of him comforted him and assured him that the pokemon centre could heal his beloved pokemon.  
  
"Well, Mark, you realise that by withdrawing your Raichu, you left yourself open to attack. Although Baltoy wasn't strong enough, other people will," he taught dully, as he himself was somewhere else, with his pokemon. With reluctance, he pulled his mind back to the present battle, for he had one more card to play. "Let's just get on with it," he said quickly. "Go Snorlax," he said, but even this was not said with any enthusiasm.  
  
From his pokeball burst a giant figure, even larger than Charizard. It was big, fat, and sleeping! "Snorlax!" yelled Mr. Meenic. "Perhaps it was the power of that voice, or maybe it recognised it's trainer's voice, but in any case, it woke up immediately, stretched, and looked around.  
  
"Yeah, yeah," replied Mark. "Return, Charizard! Go, Fearow!" And Fearow appeared, already flapping its great wings. It let out its cry, which only that morning had annoyed Mark immensely. But now, rather than be annoyed by it, he was happy, for now it only mad the opponent more scared.  
  
Once again, Mr. Meenic started off the proceedings, yelling "Snorlax! Hurry! Yawn, now! And so Snorlax let loose a HUGE yawn which also, like its earlier counterpart, created shockwaves, knocking many off their feet. Mark was not one of those. At once, everyone began to feel drowsy, including Fearow. It' wings drooped a little, and its flight became more erratic.  
  
"Fearow! Finish it quickly! Tri-attack!" He ordered. Fearow opened its long beak, and at the tip, the colours red, blue and yellow flashed briefly, red for fire, blue for ice and yellow for electricity, before combining into one magnificent colour. Exactly what colour it was, no-one could say, but it looked rather like a beautiful aurora sometimes seen near the poles. Then, that multicoloured beam, containing the powers of fire, ice and electricity, flew towards Snorlax, and making it groan, before it too succumbed to the might of the opponents like its predecessors.  
  
"Alright!" yelled Mark happily. "Gramps.. Gramps, well, Gramps would be.. Proud," and with that comment, he returned Fearow to its pokeball. Then, clipping the pokeball to his belt, he turned and strutted back to his locker; knowing that everyone was looking at him.  
  
"Wait!" gasped Mr. Meenic, for he was kneeling down next to where Snorlax was, breathing hard, and generally looking a mess, apparently from the sheer shock. "These. are.. Your grandfather's Pokemon?" he asked. When he saw the barely perceptible nod, he sighed, and said "No wonder... Level 60 plus pokemon.. You know that it's not honourable to this school?" he continued. At the sight of yet another nod, he whispered "You have great potential and an invincible fire in you. What you do with it. is the key," and with that, he collapsed, unconscious, probably from the shock. With one last look at poor Mr. Meenic, now helped by dozens of adults and children alike, he resumed his walk back to the lockers.  
  
Meanwhile, the figure in the tree finally descended slowly, greatly perturbed at this last scene. Wondering what had just transpired, Joseph Maros left for his locker to begin preparations for his match.  
  
Author's Note-The chapter that will be 'The Massacre Part II will not be the next chapter, but will be one of the next few chapters. 


	4. The Trials, Part 1

CHAPTER 4-THE TRIALS, PART I  
  
"Eevee, Spoink, Chinchou, come out!" ordered Joseph quietly. When they all appeared, he spoke. "Hey there, are you guys all right?" he asked. The three pokemon responded happily. Indeed, Eevee and Spoink were jumping (or in Spoink's case, bouncing) around Joseph.  
  
"Well, we're up against Mrs. Kawulsh first. Remember her? She teaches Pokemon P.E." he told them. "Her pokemon will be quick, so be prepared." He continued. "She has Delcatty, Ponyta and Delibird, okay? Right then. It's almost time for our big match. Eevee, you'll go first, so warm up. Chinchou, Spoink, have a good rest, because you'll need it for the battle. Let's go guys!" he said before returning Spoink and Chinchou to their pokeballs.  
  
With that, he walked out of the locker room and headed for arena five. But, unbeknownst to him, there was a figure watching him from the darkness. "Well, thought Mark, "it's time to see what he can do." And so Mark quickly headed up the stairs to the rooftop taking three steps at a time. When he finally got to the top, Mark was temporarily blinded from the bright rays of the sun after standing in the darkness for so long.  
  
As Joseph was walking to his battle arena with eevee by his side, he heard a lot of cheerful well-wishing directed at him by many pupils, and when he finally arrived at the arena, many friends and even a few teachers were there watching, like there had been for Mark, although it was probable that Mark never even noticed it. He saw that Mrs. Kawulsh was already there waiting for him. She had reddish-orange coloured hair and sharp, spooky grey eyes. She was thin and short, and wore a tracksuit and jogging shoes. She was also a kind and suave woman.  
  
"Ah," she said in her sharp, crisp tone, "so you've arrived. Well? Are you ready? She asked. "You'd better be, because I ain't giving up without a battle! Prepare youself!" she cried.  
  
"I'm as ready as I'll ever be!" replied Joseph. "Let's do this already!" he continued excitedly. He looked down at his Eevee. "Hey Eevee, old buddy. Are you ready to battle? Remember our opponents will be quick so you'll need to be alert. Alright?" he asked. He smiled when he heard it call loudly. "Good. Then let's beat them!" he shouted.  
  
"This is a three on three pokemon battle with no time limit between Joseph Maros and Mrs. Kawulsh," said the referee in a loud and clear voice. "Begin!" he called, and both competitors immediately complied, Mrs. Kawulsh throwing her pokeball, and Joseph commanding Eevee to go forward.  
  
"Let's get started Eevee!" he cried. With a tremendous leap for a being of that size, it landed near the middle of the arena and stared ferociously at the shape just beginning to appear from the pokeball. Eevee usually looked quite cute, all soft and furry, with its long ears and bushy tail, yet it was also a tough and persistent fighter, and very enigmatic too.  
  
"Go, Ponyta!" yelled Mrs. Kawulsh. Now Eevee may have been cute, but man, this Ponyta was simply GORGEOUS! Many girls, boys and teachers alike looked on in amazement as Ponyta neighed loudly and proudly into the sky. The girls wanted to pet and kiss it (the fact that it was flaming hot seemed to have slipped their minds); the teachers wanted to write about and draw it, and the boys, well, the boys all wished that all of their girlfriends were that beautiful. So anyway, Ponyta had beautiful silky-looking skin and beautiful bright burning flames all down its back, and a group of flames gathered at the back formed what seemed to be a tail. It also had an arrangement of flames where a human's hair would be, as well as dark hooves which everyone present knew were stronger and harder than a diamond, the hardest gem on Earth, which could crush almost anything.  
  
"Well, I guess I'll start things off!" said Mrs. Kawulsh confidently. "Ponyta, let's go, stomp attack!" she commanded. Ponyta immediately trotted off to one of the corners of the arena, and then turned, before gathering speed and was soon quickly galloping towards Eevee.  
  
"Eevee!" shouted Joseph quickly. "Dodge that attack, or you'll be history! You know how strong a Ponyta's hoofs are!" he ordered. Being small and agile, Eevee managed to comfortably stay ahead of, and predict, Ponyta's attacks and thus was able to dodge all of its attempted charges by estimating where Ponyta would go and niftily jumping out of the way. "Good job, Eevee!" encouraged Joseph. Now, on Ponyta's next charge, stop for a moment and throw some sand at Ponyta's eyes!" he ordered. Thus, on Ponyta's next malicious attack, Eevee quickly scooped up some sand and flicked it up towards Ponyta as it was charging, before deftly jumping out of the way. Although Eevee was not able to throw the sand far, the speed at which Ponyta was galloping meant that Ponyta ran into the sand, rather than the sand hitting Ponyta.  
  
Greatly enthused by this success, he shouted eagerly "Great, Eevee! Now tackle it before it recovers again!" he ordered. Eevee poised its muscles, and then tackled the Ponyta with cracking force, especially for something its size, before landing safely on top of Ponyta. The magnificent Ponyta fell, and it took a while to get it standing again. But, when it did, despite having a few bruises, the flames all over its body grew, as though it was reacting to Ponyta's anger for falling into such a trap. Probably a sign of its frustration, Ponyta let out a huge cry which surprised everyone, except, of course, for Mrs. Kawulsh, who was smiling.  
  
But Joseph was not keen on seeing what this anger could do to power up its attacks, so he shouted to Eevee "Hurry, before it attacks in anger, use your charm!" Eevee complied, and jumped around cutely, before blowing some kisses to the unsuspecting Ponyta. Ponyta reacted immediately by stopping its furious cries. Another thing that disappeared then was Mrs. Kawulsh's smile. Joseph knew that although Ponyta would probably still follow its master's orders and attack, it would be a bit unwilling, and would probably hold back, and so Eevee would escape bearing the brunt of Ponyta's attacks.  
  
"Ponyta!" cried Mrs. Kawulsh desperately. "Do your best and try to hit Eevee with a Flame Wheel attack!" she ordered. Ponyta stopped where it was and squinted around for a few seconds, as there was still some sand in its eyes and finally let loose a circle of flames, which, thanks to great eyesight and careful targeting, headed straight for Eevee.  
  
Joseph knew Eevee could not avoid Flame Wheel as the attack was spread out over a small distance. Thinking on his feet, he yelled "Eevee! Quickly burrow underground!" Eevee did so immediately, and was given a few valuable seconds to do so, as Ponyta searched for it and took aim. Although Eevee got most of its body underground, when the attack finally reached him, it still managed to scorch its tail, although it did not do too much damage because of the earlier charm. Outside, everyone heard a small cry of pain before Eevee's slightly blackened tail disappeared from view completely. Joseph waited for a few seconds so that Eevee could burrow some way towards Ponyta. Then, shouting with all his might, for he knew it would be hard for Eevee to hear orders while underground, he yelled "Eevee! Eevee! Get underneath Ponyta and use Doubleslap, but do it quickly or Ponyta might trample you!" he yelled. Everyone waited, most holding their breaths. Suddenly, without any warning at all, Eevee burst into the light from directly underneath and, while still in the air, gave Ponyta a powerful doubleslap with its tail.  
  
And then, it fell. Ponyta sounded a cry of pain before toppling to the ground. "No!" cried Mrs. Kawulsh. "You did extremely well, Ponyta," she said, quietly. "Return." And Ponyta gave a soft neigh before being engulfed by the red energy. "So, Joseph, I see I've underestimated you. Looking at your pokemon during my classes, I should have known that your Eevee would be quicker than most. Congratulations. But, this battle ain't over yet, so I'll skip the rest. Now, are you ready? Let's get going, Delcatty!" she cried in her powerful yet high-pitched voice.  
  
Meanwhile, from the nearby rooftop, Mark Witsinski was shaking its head in disgust. "Pathetic!" he thought. "Look at his pokemon! They all have weak attacks. What's the use of sand attack? Or doubleslap? Or tackle, for that matter? They were al weak and worthless moves, moves only weak trainers and their dumb pokemon heading down the road to Loserville had those moves" he continued viscously in his head. Yet, in a small part of his mind, he felt uncomfortable at these thoughts, especially since they were directed at his ex-best friend. But frowning at this thought, for in his mind he thought it made him look weak, he pushed this thought as far back into his mind as he could. What he did not understand, could not grasp, was that rather than making him look weak, it made him look human.  
  
So anyway, from the pokeball appeared a pokemon with about the same basic physical appearance as Eevee, although it was in fact about three times larger, Joseph knew. Joseph also knew that this was a fairly new normal- type pokemon to be discovered in the land of Hoenn, so it contained many mysteries to humans. Eevee knew this too, and in fact knew most of the things Joseph knew, for Joseph had always been gradually teaching almost everything he learned to his pokemon after school, so that one day, when the need arose, all of his pokemon could act without Joseph and his orders and guidance, to think for themselves, and also so they could help Joseph outside the battle arena.  
  
"Eevee!" shouted Joseph. "Quickly, charm it first!" And so once again Eevee smiled charmingly at Delcatty and blew some kisses. Then, it ran up to Delcatty and rubbed Delcatty, before springing away quickly and dropping its smile. It then sat there as it watched Delcatty, who was dreamily standing there, no doubt in its own imagination and pokemon heaven.  
  
"Oh no! Not again!" complained Mrs. Kawulsh. "Man I hate that move. Ummmm.. Now let's see, how can I beat that Eevee? That's right!" she exclaimed, suddenly brightening up. "Delcatty!" she yelled at the top of her voice. "Snap out of it!" and indeed, Delcatty stopped its daydreaming immediately, but was obviously still infatuated. However, it was of no surprise to anyone that Delcatty was roused, as Mrs. Kawulsh's yelling at the top of her voice hurt everyone's ears, students and teachers alike, and even Eevee's ears hurt. "Now, sing attack!" she cried, again making everyone's ears hurt.  
  
Although usually amongst the politest of young men, Joseph couldn't help but think and laugh at the thought that Mrs. Kawulsh would be the pokemon ever-her screech would make any pokemon refuse to battle! With reluctance, dwelling on that thought for just another split-second, he finally pulled his mind away back to the pokemon battle. As a result of his tireless research into all the teachers' pokemon (for they did not know who they would be fighting, and so he looked up all of them, being the person that he is), he was expecting this, and pulled out some giant headphones to block out the song. Looking across the arena, he saw Mrs. Kawulsh doing the same thing, but smiling at the same time. However, headphones were of course frowned upon as cheating, and since he had yet to come up with a plan to combat this without an item, he was at a loss to do.  
  
Meanwhile, Delcatty looked at its trainer once more, reluctant to attack Eevee, for it was still under the influence of infatuation. Seeing the stern look of its trainer, Delcatty reluctantly broke into its mystical and mysterious song. Eevee stood its ground, but soon succumbed to the song, beckoning to the lair of dreams, and rest. With a sigh, for it was tired by the battle, it slumped to the ground, sound asleep. Delcatty looked at Eevee sorrowfully at what it had to do.  
  
"Eevee!" shouted Joseph trying to wake Eevee up, for although usually it would be to no avail, Joseph was very intuitive and had a knack for noticing tiny details, and thus he had seen not only the hesitation of Delcatty, but had also seen that which no-one else, not the teachers nor boys or girls, had seen-Delcatty had been holding back during the singing. Joseph was relying on this fact to wake Eevee up earlier than someone usually could after experiencing a Sing attack.  
  
"It's no use, Joseph! Eevee won't wake! Will you give up this round?" she asked, pausing for his answer. But, at the stern shake of his head, she said "Very well. Delcatty, doubleslap now!" she yelled. Slowly, again hesitating with reluctance, it moved towards Eevee, and, raising its tail, prepared to use doubleslap. But again, it looked at its master, who was by now very annoyed but still patient nonetheless. "Come on, Delcatty. Please, just attack Eevee," she said, somewhat slyly. And so, Delcatty turned back to Eevee and did a doubleslap attack, which by no means was a weak attack; indeed, the force of the two slaps made Eevee roll about, before Delcatty ceased its onslaught.  
  
"Eevee!" Joseph shouted, still confident of his theory. "Get up! I know you can!" yelled Joseph. Suddenly, amongst all the talk around the arena, the sound of the wind and pidgey calling out, one muscle in one of Eevee's legs twitched. Slowly, the word spread, and everyone hushed. The wind stopped its constant ripping and tearing at the branches of the school's deciduous trees. Even the lock pidgey suddenly took flight for no apparent reason. Joseph, Mrs. Kawulsh and Delcatty had all noticed the movements of Eevee from the start, and were all amazed. The big difference, however, was that Joseph and Delcatty were happy that Eevee was okay, but on the other hand, Mrs. Kawulsh was extremely annoyed and surprised, for most beings took a few hours to wake up after hearing the soothing song. Eevee yawned, rolled over, and opened its eyes, the quickly jumped up as it noticed it was in an unusual environment. When it finally realised where it was, what it was doing and what had just transpired, it immediately went into battle stance.  
  
"Great to have you back, Eevee!" called Joseph ardently. "I was beginning to think I was wrong. That charm attack really payed off, didn't it?" he asked. Eevee nodded energetically, even though Eevee was slightly hurt from the last attack. "Great to have you back Eevee!" said Joseph, looking down at Eevee. He looked back up again. "Well, let's finish this round, Eevee. Tackle attack!" he ordered. Eevee readied itself, and then charged towards Delcatty, who was still smiling coyly towards Eevee, until Eevee slammed into Delcatty with great force. Delcatty, who of course did not try and avoid the impact or try to block it, was knocked back a fairly long way, and finally stopped. It did not get up again.  
  
"Delcatty, no!" yelled Mrs. Kawulsh. "No," she repeated, much quieter this time, before silently returning the fainted Delcatty to its pokeball. "Yup, Joseph Maros, you're definitely better than I thought. I guess I should congratulate you. You used your abilities, combined with your pokemon's abilities to great effect. Now, go, Delibird!" she said, throwing her pokeball with less excitement than she might have at the start of the battle, but nevertheless with energy. "Do your best, Delibird. Make me proud." She said to it quietly.  
  
"Deli, Deli!" it cried, definitely with more zeal than Mrs. Kawulsh at the moment. Delibird had a red Santa Claus type body, and white fur pretty much everywhere else on its body. It also had a white bill, stubby white wings (or arms, whatever you want to call them), and of course its trademark item, the sack of presents. It hopped around cheerfully, even waving at Eevee.  
  
"Okay, Delibird! Fly up high so that Eevee can't charm you again!" yelled Mrs. Kawulsh. With a cry, Delibird quickly flew up, so that from the ground, all they could see was a small round shape. "Now, Delibird, pepper that Eevee with presents!" she ordered. Delibird reached into its sack with its short arms, grabbing four glowing, multicoloured presents at a time. Then it started throwing them as quickly as it could down towards the ground, and Eevee. However, since Delibird had to fly so high up in the first place, although no attacks could be made against it, it could not effectively use attacks against Eevee either, because of Eevee's wondrous speed and agility. This presents landed left and right of Eevee, but none hit it. But, Mrs. Kawulsh had a plan. "Delibird!" she yelled at it. "Remember our discussion earlier, execute pattern B!" she cried.  
  
At this, everyone fell silent, waiting to see what pattern B was. Delibird called an affirmative from high above, and started resuming presents. At first, everyone thought it was a bluff on the part of Mrs. Kawulsh. Yet Joseph couldn't shake the feeling that something was up. Gradually, after about twenty seconds of constant bombing by Delibird and twenty seconds of dodging by Eevee, Joseph noticed that Eevee was no longer where he was at the start of the bombardment; in fact, Eevee, he finally noticed, was only about two metres from the posts separating the arena from the crowd, and Eevee was, with every dodge he made, jumping one more step towards being trapped in the corner.  
  
"You have to admire the strategy!" thought Joseph. "But the only problem is it's so good it's pretty much impossible to prevent from a basic pokemon on the ground which relied on physical attacks. And so Eevee kept on backing up without really intending to, but only realised the mistake it had made and the cleverness of the Delibird when it had touched the corner post.  
  
"Great, Delibird!" called Mrs. Kawulsh. "Now, just keep up the aerial bombardment and we can finish Eevee," she continued.  
  
"No, wait!" shouted Joseph from the other side. "I know I can't win this. Return, Eevee. You win that round!" he said, returning the trapped Eevee to its pokeball. Looking down at the pokeball, he said "Wow, you did great Eevee. You took out two of her pokemon." And with that, he returned the pokeball to his belt. "Now, who to chose?" thought Joseph to himself. "Okay, let's finish where we started, come on out, Spoink!" he yelled out loud. From his pokeball again burst a small shape, which immediately started bouncing. Spoink was also a pokemon from Hoenn that his father had caught on a business trip for him.  
  
Spoink was a strange pokemon. It had a pink ball of some sort on top of its head, and had a large, round face with a similar nose. It also had tiny ears, which an unobservant traveller might miss. But most strangely of all, was that it had a spring rather than a body and legs, much like a tail. In fact, it was taught that by bouncing, it made its heart beat-and if it ever stopped bouncing, Spoink would die. "Now, Spoink!" cried Joseph. "Confuse Ray attack!" he ordered. For Delibird, everything went black. Then, suddenly, an eerie ray appeared, focusing on Delibird. Then for Delibird, for a moment all was forgotten. When the darkness left, it suddenly felt extremely giddy, in fact, more giddy than it had a right to be in a pokemon battle. Indeed, for no apparent reason, it started lobbing presents into the sky above it! Unfortunately, because it stayed still, and because it threw the presents straight up into the air, Delibird was hit by about six of its own presents! With that, it gave a cry, for the confusion had worn off, but getting hit by so many presents had taken its toll, and it hit the ground hard. But, amazingly, miraculously, it started slowly and tiredly getting up.  
  
"We can't let it recover, Spoink!" he shouted to his bouncing pokemon. "Use psychic attack now!" he cried. Spoink nodded and retreated inside itself, preparing to use its psychic powers. Then, with fury, it attacked Delibird's mind. No-one at the PTS knew what was happening to Delibird, save that it was being attacked. It thrashed about for about ten seconds, before succumbing to the attack, and finally collapsing. This time, it stayed there.  
  
"The match goes to Joseph Maros!" cried the referee. All of the students cheered, and Joseph waved, along with Spoink, before returning the little thing to its pokeball, and heading back to the lockers.  
  
"Delibird!" cried Mrs. Kawulsh. "Well, you took out that infernal Eevee! I'm proud of you," she said gently. Then, she returned the fainted Delibird into its pokeball and in turn the pokeball to her belt. "You're much better than I thought, Joseph. Congratulations! You'll do very well in the Johto Pokemon League if you continue like this, very well indeed," she told him, before turning and walking back towards her office.  
  
Of course, up on the rooftop, Mark was shaking his head disdainfully. "I don't get it!" he thought furiously. "My pokemon were much better than his, my battles were more amazing, more impressive, yet all the kids didn't cheer for me at all!" Of course, being the person that he is, he was absolutely fuming. "I'll show them!" he thought, a thought interrupted by the sound of his stomach grumbling. "I'll show them all right.. Right after I get some lunch!" And finishing with that thought, he hungrily ran downstairs towards the canteen. 


	5. The Trials, Part 2

CHAPTER 5-THE TRIALS, PART II  
  
Joseph sat down alone at his favourite bench at the PTS in New Bark Town, possibly for the first time in about seven years. All that time, he had always had Mark to talk to (however stale their conversations were), to tell him his worries, and to listen to him dismissing all of those troubles as if they were nothing. As bad a friend as Mark might have been, only now did realise that Mark made an impression on everyone, sometimes not the best of impressions, but impressions, not least of all Joseph. Put plainly, he was lonely, and he missed Mark dearly. Yet he also knew, somewhere in his mind that he could not just go back to Mark now. He had to get away, to think. But now wasn't the time, he knew. He had to think about his next battle, with Mr. Cuma. Just then, he was made aware of several other kids around him.  
  
"Hey boys, look who's sitting on his own today!" sneered the biggest kid in a husky voice. The bully meanly looked around at his friends, nodded and together, they slid onto the red bench, with the ringleader next to Joseph. He had a rather foul smell to him, one of smelly socks and liquor. He smiled with his strange grin, and said "So, what are you doing?"  
  
Joseph sighed. John, Paul, Charles and Michael pretty much lived to steal, bully and generally make trouble for everyone. While Mark was by his side, they never touched him, but, perhaps sensing an opportunity to bully someone else for a change, they chose him. "Get lost," he exclaimed tiredly. "You're not wanted here. I need to think, and, believe it or not, think about something other than how long you haven't showered for," he said darkly at John, before turning away.  
  
Needless to say, this made John and the others slightly annoyed. One of them, Michael, moved to sit on the other side of Joseph. "Alright, bud," he said, emphasising 'bud', "if you want to live long enough to become a trainer, you'd better show some respect, or else!" he snarled. Joseph simply smiled calmly. "Ooh," he said, "someone's having great success cajoling me," he laughed, and again, brought his mind around to more important things. But this avaricious group wasn't finished with him yet. "Listen up, pipsqueak, when we're finished with you, you'll be just like that Baltoy after standing against that kid's Charizard!" he threatened.  
  
"Uh huh," nodded Joseph, obviously unimpressed. "And when he's finished laughing, his Charizard will make you even worse off than that poor Baltoy!" he scoffed, pointing to a large shadow behind them. Startled, the ugly group looked behind them quickly, only to see nothing. Seething in anger, they slowly turned around in unison once more, anger shown on their faces, only to be staring at Mark, standing and smiling in front of them.  
  
Suddenly, this now less than frivolous group jumped, and uncouthly fell, in unison, onto the ground. They scrambled on their feet, and then panicked as they realised it was Mark who had had the Charizard. "It's.It's.It's him!" shouted Charles, sweating heavily.  
  
"Yeah, it's the guy with the Charizard!" exclaimed Paul, who was already starting to back away.  
  
"Oh no!" was all Michael could utter, turning a ghastly shade of white as if he had been petrified.  
  
"Calm, down men." said John, the only one who could keep his voice down. "Ummm.hi Mark! Errr, we were just, just, talking to Joseph, yeah, that's what we were doing, talking to Joseph. Congratulating him, like, for his victory against Mrs. Kawulsh..Ummmm, yeah, so congratulations and all, well, we, errr need to be going now, so ummm."muttered John, most of those sentences completely unintelligible to everyone around him.  
  
"Bye!" waved Mark cheerfully, and with this, the four bullies ran away, yelling their heads off. "Well, it looks like our headmaster was right after all!" he exclaimed, chuckling. "It seems as if some boys of our age are entering the stage of answering others with monosyllabic grunts and snorts! I'll have to tell him that, boy will he be happy!" he continued, still laughing.  
  
"Mark?" Joseph whispered, half of him not wanting to say anything. "Mark?" he said, louder this time. Still, Mark looked out into the distance, apparently not hearing him. "Mark!" he said, half-shouting this time. Finally, Mark slowly turned around. But then, after finally getting Mark's attention, Joseph realised that he really didn't have a clue what he wanted to say to Mark. "Well, I errr, I guess," Joseph muttered, still unsure of what to say. Then he remembered what one of the Pokemon Studies teacher had one said.  
  
"Sometimes, simple emotions are better to express to a friend" he had said in one particular lesson. Although he had had pokemon friends in mind, that most certainly did not mean that one could not put it to practical use, in a conversation with another human.  
  
"Thank you," he said simply and quietly. "Thank you for helping me out," he continued, still hesitant.  
  
"Hey, we're friends right?" he asked, for once without his usual caustic voice to something such as this. "That's just what friends do. I was just trying helping out. And anyway, from what I saw you were handling yourself well out there," he commented sincerely.  
  
"Thanks Mark," said Joseph extremely relieved to hear that. "So," he thought to himself, "does this mean we're friends again?" Again, Joseph was caught off guard by how Mark could change his personality in an instant, just like earlier in the day. "Well, Mark?" he said out loud, getting Mark's attention. "Look, I'm sorry about this morning, and the argument and all. I started it, just because I was over-eager," he admitted sadly.  
  
Mark just laughed. "Nonsense, chap!" he said amicably. "We both know it was my fault. You expressed your view, and I attacked you. I owe you an apology. I am sorry." He said, really meaning it.  
  
Well, maybe it was the lunch-it might have been the sandwich, perhaps it was the lollies, or possibly it was actually that Mark had been around Joseph for too long (although that was very unlikely), but Mark seemed to have changed, for real, for good. "Well," thought Joseph, "I'm glad that's over, but what now? I don't think it's the right time to ask him if I can join him in his pokemon journey," he continued. "I need some time alone to think. About him, about myself, about this world. No," he concluded, still within himself, "now is not the time to rejoin him." And for the time being, that was that.  
  
Unbeknownst to Joseph, Mark was thinking along the same lines. Looking around, he saw that there were kids frolicking, here and there, a group of tables here, and a scattering of benches over there. There were some evergreen trees behind him, some pretty flowers in front and a flock of spearow above him in the clear sky. "This place is so beautiful, so placid," thought Mark. Suddenly, he whacked himself mentally. "What in the name of Mew am I doing?" he suddenly thought furiously. "Me, the soon-to-be pokemon champion, apologising! And to some weakling like Joseph too!" he fumed to himself. "And to think, I was going to ask him to join me in my quest after these stupid exams! Humph!" he thought defiantly. Then, looking up again, he calmed again somewhat, and relented a little, if only in his mind. "Oh man, what am I thinking?" he asked himself, a bit annoyed at himself. "This is what started our earlier argument. I have to stop this," he finished. But, perhaps there was still some of his old pride and independence in him, for he could not ask Joseph to go with him.  
  
Joseph broke the silence that ensued first, as he was the more open and honest person. "You know, Mark," he began, not exactly sure how to phrase his words. Mark was shaken out of his thoughts by this, and looked at Joseph, waiting. "I was, well, sort of watching your battle," he said, a little uncomfortable at Mark's stare. Mark just kept looking expectantly. "And, well, I think you did very well. So errr congratulations," he said awkwardly.  
  
Mark simply nodded, deep in thought again, and obviously not his usual self, for he had always loved to be congratulated, championed and complimented. But now, his nod was barely perceptible. "You," he started, "you were watching me battle?" he asked. Joseph quickly smiled and nodded positively. "You know," he thought aloud, I didn't see you there," he told him. At this, Joseph's smile vanished, and was replaced by a frown, doing his best not to show his true feelings of nervousness and discomfort.  
  
"Well," began Joseph slowly, thinking frantically "I guess you were just caught up in the moment, and in the battle," he answered. "Yeah, I mean, we both know how psyched up you get about pokemon battles," he said truthfully. You probably just didn't notice me," he concluded.  
  
"Yeah, I suppose," conceded Mark thoughtfully, not entirely satisfied with Joseph's answer. But he didn't give up in his search for an answer. "So tell me," he began, where were you standing? On my side or on Mr. Meenic's side? And which pokemon did I use?" he asked Joseph.  
  
"Well, I was watching from a little behind you," he answered carefully, which was, he supposed, the truth, for the tree on which he had been perched upon was indeed behind Mark, but only just at about a twenty degree angle to Mark. "And," he continued thoughtfully, "you used Raichu against Machoke, followed by Charizard against Baltoy, and then Fearow beat Snorlax," he told mark, hoping he would now be satisfied.  
  
It appeared he was. Yet Mark obviously still wanted to say something to Joseph too. "Joseph, you know, I was watching your match too," he said to him. "And, I thought you did well," he finished. This was hard for him to say, as the rebellious side of him did not believe it. But Mark wanted to have a good friend in Joseph, and was determined to have his way.  
  
Joseph looked at him, surprised. "You did?" he asked rhetorically. "I wonder," he thought to himself, "how do I know he wasn't doing what I was doing?" he continued. Joseph thought for a second, before making up his mind, deciding that he would not ask. He wanted Mark to be his friend, and he was afraid of Mark erupting again. Instead, he said "well, I guess neither of us was paying attention to anything other than our battle then!" he said, hoping Mark would drop the topic. And that he did.  
  
"Mark," Joseph started again, "I.. Well, I don't think we should travel together, I mean, well," he said. Thankfully, Mark nodded in agreement immediately. Joseph sighed, happy that ordeal was over. He and Mark would not be traveling together, not yet, anyway, but they had regained their friendship. In a way, that was a trial too, of two friends and their strength mentally. With that thought on both boys' minds, Mark left Joseph so that he could prepare for his next battle, against Mr. Cuma. Joseph felt that it would be a day to remember. He didn't know how right he would turn out to be.  
  
"Well," thought Joseph, "let's see now.. Mr. Cuma..Oh that's right!" he exclaimed loudly, which made several other kids stop and stare. "Mr. Cuma, teaches Pokemon History," he recited, remembering the information that he had read the night before. "All his pokemon are smart pokemon, at least partly psychic," he recalled. "A Kadabra, a Starmie and a Meditite," he thought. It was a balance between giving everyone a go, and yet not throwing away the battle in doing so. "I'll send out Chinchou if he uses Starmie, Eevee if he sends out Kadabra and Spoink if he sent out Meditite," he decided. "Now," he said to his pokemon after releasing them, "his pokemon have these moves." And so continued Joseph's preparation for the rest of lunchtime. 


	6. The Trials, Part 3

CHAPTER 6-THE TRIALS, PART III  
  
At last the shrill cry of the final bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Joseph Maros obligingly left the bench on which he had been sitting on all lunch, and slowly headed towards arena three, where he was to battle Mr. Cuma. As he was walking down the big brick path, there was a motley bunch of students around him. Some were chatting between themselves quietly. Others ran down the path carrying loads of books, obviously late for their next class. Some even recognised Joseph, and greeted him, or waved and called out his name. Joseph, however, registered none of these in his brain. He was busy trying to recall and recite all the information he had gotten about Mr. Cuma in his extensive research. "Okay, Mr. Cuma," he thought, "a Pokemon History teacher. All of his pokemon are smart and knowledgeable. Has Starmie, Kadabra and Meditite. All are at least partly psychic," he recited.  
  
Suddenly, there came a high pitched sound of a whistle from just up ahead which startled Joseph. This made him look up in surprise, and pause from his endless recitals, to see another surprise. There, perhaps three metres in front of him was arena three. Joseph blinked several times before he could get his body to do anything else. Obviously, Joseph had been very engrossed in his thoughts, but he had absolutely no recollection of walking this far. From the opposite end of the arena, Mr. Cuma laughed. Not the scornful laugh that Mark would have given him either, but a clear and loud, happy laugh. "Well Joseph Maros, when you've finished thinking, get ready, because it's time to battle!" he said, still quite amused. "Are you ready?" he asked Joseph, now becoming much more serious, all the while looking every which way, looking for the referee. Joseph nodded in answer, and also looked around for the referee. When the referee finally did show up, huffing and puffing, he nodded towards him, to show that they were both ready.  
  
Suddenly remembering something, Joseph strained his eyes, looking every which way, seeing if he could spot Mark, but to no avail. Mark was nowhere in sight, or at least it seemed so from Joseph's point of view. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to Joseph, Mark had again taken a seat on the rooftop of the nearby pokemon science building. The building was a dirty looking blackish- grey colour, so it hid Mark quite well. There, he watched and waited.  
  
"Well, sorry everyone!" he said cheerfully, if somewhat tired. "This is a three on three pokemon battle with no time limit between Joseph Maros and Mr. Cuma!" he announced. Although everyone present knew this already, it was generally regarded as proper, even dogma in a sense by some people, to declare these things, to help settle any disputes. "Begin!" he cried. And so Joseph's final battle with Mr. Cuma began.  
  
"Go, Starmie!" cried Mr. Cuma, throwing a pokeball. From his pokeball came a bright flash of light, and from the centre of that light, Starmie formed, standing on its two 'legs'. Starmie looked like two starfish stuck together, one on top of the other. Both sides of its body could spin around rapidly in different directions, making for a formidable attack. Its body was made up of ten purple arms (or legs, depending on which way was facing up). But by far the most prominent feature of Starmie was a beautiful, gleaming rainbow-coloured gem, which was worth a small fortune on the black market, everyone knew. Unfortunately, the number of poachers looking for Staryu and Starmie's gems had increased, leading to a decline in numbers. It made Joseph sad to see Staryu and Starmie being hunted by greedy money- grubbers.  
  
Pulling his mind back to the battle, Joseph also threw his pokeball. "Go Chinchou!: yelled Joseph. The pokeball opened to reveal his excited Chinchou, who seemed to have a plethora of energy. Indeed, it was bouncing around happily, looking as though it didn't have a care in the world. Chinchou had a small blue body and four tiny fins, two on the sides and two on the back, as well as two relatively large yellow eyes and a small, cute black nose. Also, it had two black, thin drooping antennae, at the ends of which were two bulbous yellow balls, which contained Chinchou's electricity cells that generated the electricity. These were known to produce extraordinarily powerful electrical currents, especially considering their size.  
  
Mr. Cuma's voice suddenly cracked through the air like a whip, startling both Joseph and Chinchou. Indeed, Chinchou stopped bouncing around and tensed, ready for battle. "Let's get this started!" he said, "Rapid Spin attack Starmie!" he ordered. Starmie jumped into the air at once and started spinning both sides of its body the same way, so quickly in fact that it simply became a circular purple blur. Then, it charged at Chinchou.  
  
"Chinchou, tackle it now!" he called. Chinchou resumed bouncing once again, and when it was ready, made a huge leap, hurtling at high speed to the quickly approaching Starmie. And then, they hit each other. The impact when these two pokemon collided was enormous, even more so if one considered their size, Starmie's Rapid Spin, pitted against Chinchou's tackle attack. There both pokemon hung, in the air above the middle of the arena, while the whole crowd looked on, stunned, unknowingly holding their collective breaths. The seconds passed, and still the two pokemon persisted, neither one budging an inch, both pushing, struggling. The power generated by these two was shown clearly when sparks actually began to fly from the impact. At last, with a cry in unison, both pokemon, whether by accident or on purpose, disengaged at the same time and each flew into opposite corners of the area.  
  
Both pokemon looked stunned and fairly damaged, but both Starmie and Chinchou got back up again, though with obvious effort. Chinchou had a bruise just below its left eye, while on of Starmie's legs was slightly bent. Yet despite their injuries, neither pokemon was willing to back down, so great was the clash of the two wills. Finally, Mr. Cuma made a move. "Here's a shocker for you, Joseph!" he laughed, "Starmie, thunderbolt attack!" he yelled. Starmie glowed yellow, as sparks began to fly from its core. Bigger and bigger the sparks flew, until sparks encompassed Starmie's small body. Then, leaping into the air, with its core all the while glowing like mad, it proudly displayed its core, before letting loose with a powerful lightening bolt, which, with its jagged edge, rocketed towards Chinchou.  
  
Only now did Joseph make his move. Yet his response was not what Mr. Cuma had expected, and he was confused for a moment, before his head cleared and realised the magnitude of his error. "Now, Chinchou, whatever you do, MAKE SURE IT HITS YOU!" Joseph yelled at the top of his voice, for the release of the thunderbolt attack had made a gargantuan noise, louder than any Joseph had heard for a long time, and one was not easily heard. Yet Chinchou heard, and nodded. It stayed right where it was, and waited. For Chinchou, it was a little scary. Although it knew that the attack would not harm him at all because of its ability, it could not help but tremble slightly at the oncoming onslaught. Yet it had been with Joseph for many years, and had learned to trust him, and so Chinchou stood firm, if only because of its faith in Joseph. Making up its mind, Chinchou stayed put, and waited. The impact was not what Chinchou had expected, but rather, Chinchou felt a slight tingling sensation that was like someone tickling it. Chinchou could not help but release a giggle at the pleasure it was experiencing. The crowd, meanwhile, gasped as one, for Chinchou was completely surrounded by a bright yellow luminous light, as if it had come from heaven itself. Slowly, Chinchou's wounds from its battle started to disappear. Chinchou's formerly drooping eyelids opened suddenly with new energy, and it smiled and started bouncing around happily again, fully healed. Joseph too jumped with joy, as he smiled and laughed, while Chinchou showed off its newfound strength by attempting to perform some aerial acrobatics, like somersaulting, and so on, trying to impress Joseph. This of course, looked rather funny, but did not mean that this attempt was more successful than previous attempts. However, it definitely could not be faulted for trying. Then, it came up to Joseph and nuzzled him affectionately with its nose.  
  
Mr. Cuma meanwhile, obviously did not share Chinchou and Joseph's excitement, and his facial expressions showed it. One could not help but think it was like a slow motion movie, showing a wide range of facial expressions, most of them negative, from bewilderment, to anger, to disgust. One girl could be heard telling one of her friends that he would make a great actor. That idea wasn't exactly wholly embraced by Mr. Cuma though, who looked sharply at the girls, who, that day, were infused with newfound politeness when addressing Mr. Cuma.  
  
"Now, Chinchou, finish it off! Show them what a real thunderbolt is like!" he ordered. It was quite impressive how quickly Chinchou shifted from play mode to battle mode. It stopped jumping all of a sudden, and crouched down (well, as much as a Chinchou can crouch anyway). One moment it was there, the next it was here, ready to attack or defend. Again, the attacking pokemon started to glow a bright yellow, with the light concentrated primarily on its electricity cells this time, rather than the core. It too jumped, mimicking Starmie's action, though whether on purpose or just by chance, no-one knew, although the sparks this time only covered Chinchou's head (not that it really mattered). Finally, with a distinctive cry, the piercing bolt of lightening was again released, this time from Chinchou, and heading straight for Starmie. Starmie was knocked backwards and landed outside the ring, and this time, it stayed down. Mr. Cuma looked down at his feet while he was returning Starmie to its pokeball, as if he had lost confidence in himself.  
  
Perhaps remembering that he was a teacher at the PTS, and a well respected one at that for his extensive knowledge, he brightened up all of a sudden and smiled. "Well," he said politely, "I have to give you credit for that," he said.  
  
Joseph laughed, and said "well, it wouldn't have been much without you!" At this, Mr. Cuma nodded slowly.  
  
"I let my mind slip from the peak performance stage," he admitted. "Joseph, when you become a Pokemon Trainer, make sure you don't ever lose your cool. That tension got on top of me, I guess," he admitted. Far from being hard to say as he had thought, Mr. Cuma felt relieved more than anything. Sure, he had made an error, but he was human. And so, it was like being reborn, with energy, and, for the first time in maybe twenty, thirty years, with youth. Particularly excited once again by the prospects of a Pokemon battle, he threw his next pokeball with vibrant energy. "Go, Meditite!" he yelled.  
  
A small being burst forth from the pokeball, calmly sitting cross-legged on the ground. It had a large white bulb which looked rather like an onion where a human's head would be, two large, circular black eyes and large red lips as well. The rest of its body was a shade of fairly light blue, save for its feet, which were the same whitish-colour as its head. Also prominent were its weird looking ears, which were round, but looked like they were stuck on to the side of its head with PVA glue.  
  
Joseph decided not to wait around. "Chinchou, water gun attack!" he yelled. Chinchou mouth suddenly looked as though it had gotten bigger. It expanded, and expanded, and expanded, until the mouth alone was almost as large as the rest of its body, being filled with water. The, just as kids run around squirting water at each other on a hot day, Chinchou too fired the accumulated water, though with much more power than a water gun, like a rocket directed towards the Meditite, who was not moving.  
  
Joseph did wondered why Mr. Cuma had not given a command, but he pushed that though away, focusing on the battle. Then, just as the water was just about to hit Meditite, a red ball appeared out of nowhere to surround Meditite. The water gun smashed into the red ball, but to no effect. The mysterious red ball stayed completely intact, and so did Meditite. Indeed, Meditite had not moved an inch since the battle started.  
  
"What the?!" breathed Joseph as the audience cheered both competitors on. "What was that?" he asked himself.  
  
"Ha!" laughed Mr. Cuma. "That, I keep to myself," he said, wisely not giving anything away. "Good job Meditite!" he called encouragingly to his pokemon. Meditite did not answer or respond in any way, but Mr. Cuma knew that it had gotten his message.  
  
"Now, how could Meditite have done that?" thought Joseph. "Meditite only has Meditate, Brick Break and Focus Energy. There was nothing about Light Screen or barrier," he continued. "Meditate, Brick Break, Focus Energy. I don't think my research was incorrect or incomplete, but then again... Wait a minute! I wonder.," he said thoughtfully. Then raising his voice, he said "Chinchou! Go, tackle it now!" Chinchou went to the far corner of the dirty looking arena, turned around, and started bouncing towards Meditite, gaining speed at an amazing rate with each bounce. On and on it charged and still Meditite did not move. Closer, closer. Then, finally Chinchou was upon Meditite. Yet still Meditite did not move. Instead, the red energy barrier finally rose up from the ground just as Chinchou was about a metre (40 inches) away from it. With a boom, Chinchou slammed into the energy barrier hard, and was obviously stunned. The Meditite was not completely unscathed this time either. For whatever reason, Meditite was pushed back about two metres, and also looked slightly dizzy. Meditite's shield flickered, before it disappeared into thin air again.  
  
"Now, Meditite, Brick Break!" called Mr. Cuma suddenly. Meditite slowly got up, its first movement for the battle. There it stood, ready to attack. Raising its hand in preparation for the blow, Meditite ran quickly towards Chinchou. Yet something was wrong, Joseph immediately realised. Meditite was too quick, too balanced for a normal Brick Break attack, and Chinchou knew it too. Left, right, left it dodged, but Meditite was simply too quick and too powerful. Eventually, as Chinchou got tired, its movements became more and more sluggish. Finally, it stopped, breathing hard. That was when Meditite hit. Approaching from behind, this pokemon delivered a powerful neck blow to Chinchou, sending it sprawling to the other edge of the arena.  
  
The power from the blow was shocking. "Impossible!" exclaimed Joseph. "There's no way that Meditite could generate so much power on its own," he breathed, stunned, as Chinchou slowly and painfully struggled to get itself back into the fight.  
  
"That's where you're wrong, obviously," replied Mr. Cuma, smiling. "Now, think. Meditite has been doing absolutely nothing, right?" he asked Joseph, smiling.  
  
That's when it suddenly hit Joseph, and hard. "No, of course not," Joseph responded quietly, only now realizing the truth. "Focus Energy, Meditate," he stated. "They are Meditite's other moves. That was why Meditite was so strong and able to move so quickly. And.. And.. The barrier, Medicham is part psychic, so.." he gasped, leaving the crowd confused and Mr. Cuma to finish off the sentence.  
  
"So using the power of Focus Energy and its power of meditation, Meditite could heighten its inner power far enough to draw on a limited amount of potential psychic energy," he completed.  
  
"Oh man!" complained Joseph, "of course, you don't have to give orders to your pokemon. Now, that attack just took off most of Chinchou's health! Unless we could." he said thoughtfully. Suddenly, he lifted his head, and shouted with renewed vigour "Chinchou, do exactly what I tell you, exactly when I tell you to! Now, draw a cross in the dirt beneath you!" he commanded. Chinchou looked a bit confused, as did Mr. Cuma who was thinking rapidly, cycling through the possibilities of what this meant. The crowd was confused too, looking around at each other and murmuring amongst themselves. After Chinchou had followed his orders, Joseph then proceeded with the next phase of his plan. "Now, charge up a Water Gun attack!" he ordered. Chinchou, who was still confused, instantly became happier, since Joseph was, to it, saying something rational. It had just taken a beating, and was low on energy, so it decidedly wanted to do something useful. So, it once again started filling its mouth with water. Joseph waited as Chinchou's mouth once again swelled up to an enormous size. Then, he waited, until he judged was the last possible moment, before yelling "Chinchou! Look at the cross you just made!" Chinchou, now even more confused, nevertheless followed Joseph's instructions, and looked down. Just at the right time, Chinchou could not hold the water in its mouth for much longer, and had to release it. Chinchou went flying into the air. The height at which Chinchou reached was testament to the power of the water gun attack.  
  
Meanwhile, Meditite once again raised its shield against the water gun attack. The energy ball was raised, suddenly flickered, and disappeared, all in a matter of two seconds. "Now is the time, Chinchou, Thunderbolt attack!" he yelled, as Joseph's strategy was still being thought upon by Mr. Cuma. But it was too late to do anything. Still airborne, Chinchou prepared itself for the attack. Just when it reached the apex of its 'leap', it released its electric energy that it had been charging straight towards Meditite. This time, the strike struck home, and Meditite was hit by the full power of the attack. Meditite simply stood there, surrounded by the powerful electrical yellow light, under the continuing onslaught by Chinchou, though it itself had long hit the ground. Suddenly, the zapping ceased, the smoke cleared, and Meditite fell. Everyone could see that it was a mess. There were scorch marks on its whole body, as well as a blacked hand and head.  
  
"Well, what on earth happened to the shield?" breathed a startled Mr. Cuma, whilst returning Meditite to its pokeball. "Why did it fail?" he asked, not quite believing what had just happened.  
  
"My tackle attack weaken the shield greatly, and also partly damaged Meditite," Joseph explained. "Then, I had Chinchou draw a cross and then use water gun to fool Meditite into thinking that I was going to attack it, and set up the shield. Meditite no longer had the ability to maintain the shield, especially since the shield was the result of extraordinary psychic connection in the first place. So, the shield disappeared, and Meditite went boom. Simple really," he declared to Mr. Cuma, who nodded, impressed.  
  
"I see we've taught you well, Joseph," he said, nodding. "Your knowledge of pokemon from everywhere is astounding. And your tactics are well thought of," he commented slowly. "When you beat me, you will become a fine trainer," he said to Joseph, who was surprised.  
  
"But Sir, you shouldn't be saying that!" he cried anxiously. "The battle is far from over. There are many instances of battles where a trainer has won a one on three match!" he argued.  
  
"No," he declared firmly. "It is obvious to me that I will not beat you here today, so I wish you well on your journey. But of course we still have to finish the battle. So, go Kadabra!" he commanded. Kadabra was rather hard to describe, being really weird, but what could be described was its face. It had a face quite like that of a Grumpig, with the same snout, and a red marking of some sort on its forehead. This had always troubled scientists. Some believe that there is no point to it. Others believe it varies from tribe to tribe of Abras and Kadabras. Still others believed that it was a sign and measure of their psychic power. Most of its body was thin and wiry too, although it looked quite large, its arms and legs were all amazingly small. It also had a spoon in one hand, on which it concentrated its potent psychic powers.  
  
"I withdraw Chinchou!" announced Joseph, returning Chinchou to a pokeball. "I can see that it would only get beat up and wouldn't do any real damage," he confessed. "Let's go, Spoink!" he cried. Once again the minute form of Spoink appeared, bouncing and bouncing, which of course supports its heart. It looked very excited now, rather than nervous like its first match, and eager to get into the fray.  
  
"Now, give it a Psywave attack!" yelled Mr. Cuma. Psywave, everyone knew, was a dangerous option, for it's strength was dependant on the air around it, which always distorted Psywave, as the waves themselves were very 'fragile' in a sense. "If it works, great, if it doesn't, oh well. At least it'll stun it for a while," he muttered to himself. Kadabra closed its eyes and focused its great mind to the task of sending out the waves. The waves, unlike most psychic attacks, were visible, and obviously distorted the air. One could see the waves influencing the air, ad vice versa. Although visible, no-one would know the power of the blast until it hit.  
  
And hit it did. There was no noise, as one might have expected. Spoink was simply blown back, sent all the way back to the edge of the arena. Both trainers were eager either to not let the other get the advantage or keep the advantage. At the same time, they yelled "Psychic attack, now!" Spoink bounced back into play, and Kadabra flipped back a little. Both closed their eyes, focusing their power, into one mighty blast. Opening their eyes, they both attacked, again in unison. The magnitude of these two pokemon together was so great, that people from a few metres away could feel the effects. They became drowsy fairly quickly, so there was no telling what Spoink and Kadabra were feeling, for both were attacking, but at the same time trying to hold out for as long as possible. Spoink going for the win and Kadabra fighting to keep its master's hopes alive, although Mr. Cuma was still sure that Joseph would win. Finally, when both pokemon could not stand up any longer, both withdrew their attack, and were simultaneously pushed back a few metres. Now, finally, the two did something different. Kadabra slowly and painfully started walking back towards Spoink. Spoink instead bounced towards Kadabra quickly in short hops, landing on its head, knocking it to the ground, forming a puff of dust as it hit the ground. Spoink then landed perfectly behind Kadabra. Then, it suddenly started swaying for whatever reason, and then toppled to the ground, overcome by the psychic power of Kadabra. "Return!" shout Joseph quickly, for he knew that without bouncing or being in a pokeball, it would soon die. "See?" he asked Mr. Cuma. "You do have a chance in this," he declared.  
  
"No," said Mr. Cuma quietly. "Look at Kadabra, Joseph, don't analyse, just really look at it," he told him, and as Joseph did so, he began to realise what he had meant. Kadabra was breathing hard, with bruises almost everywhere. "It won't last this round, Joseph. Now, finish it," he said softly. This, he realised, was condemning Kadabra really and giving up, but he knew all too well that Kadabra was doomed to lose either way, as much as it hurt him to admit it, even if had been privately admitted to himself.  
  
"Alright, if you say so!" said Joseph warily, afraid that this was a trick. "Go, Eevee, tackle attack, now!" he yelled. Eevee, at full power and eager to stretch its muscles, smiled at Joseph affectionately, before nodding, and turning to face Kadabra. Kadabra did not prepare to block, for it could read the mind of its master, and knew his will. So it stayed, stood tall and bravely waited for the blow to come. And come the blow did, striking Kadabra hard on its belly. Kadabra fell, slowly. This was the single most painful moment in his life. Kadabra fell so slowly in the eyes of Mr. Cuma.  
  
"Oh, Kadabra!" he cried, running to his best pokemon. "I'm sorry, my friend. I did what I knew was the inevitable," he said, crying softly. "I think we both knew that we would lose today in this battle, didn't we, pal?" he asked slowly. Being extremely weak, Kadabra could only growl affectionately, forgiving him without hesitation, for it of course trusted his trainer, as Mr. Cuma single-handedly picked up Kadabra, and walked away slowly, alone, towards the pokemon centre in New Bark Town.  
  
Meanwhile, on the other side of the arena, Joseph too felt tears stinging in his eyes too, though he couldn't put his finger on exactly why. It just felt sad, and wrong to him, that a trainer should give up like that. He sighed, completely forgetting about his win, and of course his graduation, and walked back to his lockers sadly.  
  
"ARRRGGGHH!" yelled Mark angrily from the rooftop. "What are they doing, playing tiddlywinks?" he roared. "Giving up, inevitable, those weak fools!" he shouted. I'll show them, in my match just wait and see..." he snickered, already planning his display, as he too walked back to his locker room. "Hey, maybe I could.." He said, chuckling rather evilly actually as he headed down the staircase. 


	7. The Massacre, Part 2

CHAPTER 7-THE MASSACRE, PART II  
  
"You will win, or else!" Mark Witsinski yelled loudly at his pokemon from the locker room, for the second time in just four hours. The rusty grey old lockers, several containing dents, which were no doubt from taking the brunt of earlier inhabitants' anger, creaked, shook and rattled to no end in their silent protest at the sound of Mark's harsh voice. On second thought though, maybe not so silent. The dirty black and white tiled floor seemed to shake in progress, and the old yellow roof, with its flaking paint seemed to grumble at him as well. "We're up against Mr. Despotta. I don't have to tell you how much I hate him!" declared Mark. "Stupid maths teachers! They tell us over and over again that we're doing 'pure mathematics!'" sneered Mark in the tone that young girls often use to mimic one another. "They're so blind they can't tell that all we're doing is actually pure evil... And that goody-two shoes Joseph! Teachers' pet," he grumbled, envious of his friend. "He's always getting the attention. Heck, I didn't even know he was good at maths! He just suddenly seemed to become good! I of all people should know.."  
  
"Well," he continued, calming himself slightly, "it'll do no good to tire myself out," he said, which was probably the first sensible thing he had said all day. "Gyarados, you will battle first, followed by Victreebel, and for the finale, you'll beat them Dragonite!" he declared, thoroughly confident of his win. And really, there was no reason for him not to be. Dragonite, his strongest pokemon, was on level 75, and Victreebel and Gyarados were both over level 65. Of course, none of the teachers' pokemon were over level 25. "This won't even be a challenge. But just wait for the finale with Dragonite! Hehe, that'll be something!" he laughed out loud.  
  
Finally, a bell rung in the distance to tell all competitors that the final round was about to begin. However, since Mark also happened to be the last person to battle, a happy cheer was heard by the many that had done well, a tired cheer from those that didn't do so well, and even some annoyed groans. For them, they were allowed to go early, as long as they did not have any more matches afterwards. The large group of students slowly filed out of the main red gates, chatting amongst themselves. There were students of every kind, blonds, brunettes, guys, gals, tall kids, short kids, skinny kids and fat kids, all jostling, eager to leave school. Even some of the teachers were sneaking out, creating a huge noise from the smacking down of feet on the hard bricks. This of course was with the single exception of Joseph, who pushed and shoved his way towards the arena that Mark would be fighting in. It would turn out that this was not the cleverest thing he had done in his life. But of course, Joseph did not know, and would never have guessed what was to come, and so continued to attempt, amongst the fast emptying crowd, to get to arena one, which also happened to be the grand centre arena of the Pokemon Trainer's School.  
  
This area differed from others in that it alone of all the other arenas contained a gathering of both evergreen and deciduous trees. And, it was also fenced off by a fairly new addition to the grounds, a golden metre- high fence with a spearhead pattern at the top. It was quite a beautiful sight, and a welcome addition to the already beautiful grounds. It was broken at only two points, a majestic silver gate at both of these, standing up tall and proud as if they were the eighth wonder of the world.  
  
It was here that Joseph ran, trying to hide in the shadows to avoid being seen, especially by Mark. From tree to tree the lone figure ran, dodging, dashing, looking around for any figure, even as the bees buzzed around him and the grass swayed in the wind. Finally reaching a tree he could climb, he swiftly jumped up, avoiding a large brown branch with a Ledyba sitting on it. Although the swooshing sound could be heard as he was climbing the tree Joseph did indeed manage to avoid being noticed. Swinging his legs around to a more comfortable yet secretive position, for he was quite close to the arena, his small eyes darted around, looking for Mark.  
  
Right on cue came Mark, strutting over to the golden gate, pausing only briefly to fling it open carelessly like important generals or royalty might as if to declare his arrival, before resuming his extremely proficient display of footwork. Joseph groaned, half contemptuously and half exasperatingly. "Just like him!" exclaimed Joseph from his chosen tree, "Just like that, as if he alone was the most important bloke in the world. Oh man! Well, I guess some things don't change," he sighed.  
  
Oblivious to this, Mark continued to walk confidently to the usually packed central arena, although now it was completely devoid of people save for himself, the Referee, who was one of the very few refs on time today, his opponent, the maths teacher Mr. Despotta, and of course, Joseph, though his presence was unknown to everyone else present. Ignoring the beauty and serenity of the place, the birds singing, the beautiful blue-green water in the fountain rushing down from the spout, the bees buzzing, working their hearts out, and the wind, gently blowing, Mark immediately headed towards his end of the arena, "Come on, Mr. Despotta!" he called challengingly, "drop the 'old man' pose and let's get going! Unless you're afraid that is!" he laughed.  
  
Mr. Despotta obviously had no fashion sense. He was wearing a neat black jacket with a white shirt underneath. After that, everything else about his attire was incomprehensibly crazy. Instead of trousers, he had on a pair of ridiculous bright yellow shorts, revealing more of his legs than perhaps everyone would otherwise wish. This was followed by a pair of shiny red and black sneakers, polished to perfection. The match, however, was less than perfect. And of course, the traditional black sunglasses like the ones in the movie MIB. In other words, simply horrendous. Joseph stared meekly. Mark frowned meekly. The referee just blinked his eyes, pretended nothing was wrong and tried to shut out the terrible colour mix.  
  
"I'm ready when you are!" wheezed Mr. Despotta, for he was aging. "Face it, George!" he thought to himself, "the young are taking the reigns, but I won't give into them yet!" he corrected himself encouragingly. "Mark, Mark, Mark," he stated, "haven't you learned anything here? Or are you too proud, too blind to see the truth?" he asked. "You are-"  
  
"Quit your yabbing, and get going! Stop trying to buy some time! It is starting to slip from your fingers anyway, only I have the time to waste. There's plenty of time for me, but you on the other hand, soon, you will be but a memory," he said harshly.  
  
"Plenty of time? Plenty of time?" scoffed Mr. Despotta, who was actually a fairly nice guy, despite his name. "Exactly what I was talking about!" he exclaimed. "You are not a child, Mark. So why do you act like one?" he asked "You should have learned that no-one can hold a moment. It runs out like water in your fist. You must try and grasp it when you can, even as it falls away," he taught patiently.  
  
"I have no time for your talk, old fool! The world is waiting for a new champion, and it shall be I that delivers!" he cried.  
  
Seeing his cue, and also not wanting a major brawl, the referee interrupted this less than eloquent speech by Mark. "This will be a-"  
  
"We know what it is, just get on with it!" interrupted Mark for a second time, "let us start already!"  
  
"Then begin!," shouted the ref with less enthusiasm as he might otherwise have shown.  
  
"Since you're so eager to win, I will be the first to commence. Go, Tauros!" yelled Mr. Despotta gruffly, for he was slightly perturbed at Mark's, well, attitude, shall we say. All this running quickly through his mind, he heaved his pokeball into the centre with a nice, flat throw. Though thrown hard, the pokeball naturally did not bounce, but instead made a clicking sound as it opened all of a sudden, revealing a bright flash of light. The red light flew out, temporarily unformed, but slowly revealing first two horns, followed by its three tails before its legs, and finally, its body. Tauros had a dark, brown chocolate coloured body (and incidentally made Joseph's stomach growl), while its legs were a lighter shade of brown, almost orange really, rather like that of traditional tea. Its face was the same light brown, albeit with three grey circles half embedded into its head. It also had two curved majestic horns sprouting from the sides of its head, each looking like a beautiful crescent moon. Finally, three tails whipped back and forth, dark brown in colour, with furry grey tips. Lifting its head, it opened its mouth and gave a challenging earsplitting roar which made everyone cover their ears.  
  
"Huh, you don't see many of those," remarked Mark, " but that doesn't mean I'll show you mercy! Show them my power, Gyarados!" he yelled, throwing the pokeball in his hand violently. This time, the pokeball chose to open itself and released its pokemon while in mid-air, before flying back to Mark's open palm. At first, the shape that appeared seemed to be much like a snake. Over the next few seconds, that thought rapidly disappeared from the minds of those present. The shape simply refused to stop growing. It grew, and grew, and grew, and grew some more, until it had become what must have been at least a hundred metres. On the ground Gyarados sat, bending its body to form several 'u' and 'n'. It had a fierce, dragon-like body, mainly blue, white and a dull yellow. White fins grew all over Gyarados' body, with one exceptionally big one at the end of its long body. Its face in particular was formidable to look at, with its huge staring eyes right into you. Really, it gave Joseph shivers even though it wasn't looking anywhere near him. Also, it had three dark green 'horns' you might say, looking rather like the business end of a pitchfork that those red cartoon devils are always shown holding.  
  
"A Gyarados, huh?" asked Mr. Despotta, "Well, it's certainly possible to have one, since Magikarp evolves at level 20, but... This one seems unnaturally strong," he murmured. "And I can't imagine Mark ever having the patience to raise a Magikarp." Making up his mind, he yelled "Tauros! Don't give him a chance to attack! Take down, now!" Tauros snorted loudly in the way bulls do before they charge. Then, kicking up dust with its front hoof, it lowered its head fiercely, a not very nice look on its face. It charged.  
  
"Gyarados, twist around and dodge it, then give it a Hydro Pump attack when it runs past!" he ordered.  
  
From the other end, Mr. Despotta stiffened slightly from hearing this, though not enough for Mark to notice. "Hydro pump?!" he exclaimed in his mind worriedly, "Is that possible? Or is he just bluffing?" One look at Mark's contemptuous yet angry face gave him all the answers he needed. But it was too late to stop now, he knew. "Ouch time now," he winced, quoting from a Star Wars movie that he had seen.  
  
Gyarados, display great agility for a being of its gargantuan size, nimbly twisted its body so that Tauros ran straight through a loop. Then, shifting its head to face Tauros' backside, its eyes glowed red for a split second, before releasing a decisive flood of water, its force similar to that of the mightiest waterfall, and giving the grass more water than was good for them. The aim was true, and the power immense, as the water hit Tauros, and in the moment it still stood, the water sprayed everywhere like a gigantic out of control sprinkler system. After that, inevitably, Tauros gave in to the power of the blast, knowing it could not win, and was pushed metres out of the arena by the flow. There it lay, still and motionless, sprawled on the ground like a fly just swatted by a fly swatter, barely breathing.  
  
"Return, Tauros!" cried Mr. Despotta, all the while looking fairly calm, not giving away any of his emotion, as he had learned to do over the years. In his mind, however, he was, he had to admit, slightly worried. "Well!" thought Mr. Despotta, impressed nevertheless. "Maybe I will be forced to give way to the youth sooner than I thought," he exclaimed. "But I'm not gonna go down with a fight!" he thought, trying to muster some of that old energy that he once had as a youth. Alright, down to business!" he told Mark out loud, strengthening his voice, although Mark merely gagged, struggling to keep a straight face. "It's time for some payback! Go and avenge Tauros, let's go Primeape!" he yelled, releasing the pokeball.  
  
The hairy, round body of Primeape all appeared simultaneously from the pokeball. It had, as just mentioned, a round, pudgy, white body with lots and lots of fur. This fur was very long indeed, and made Primeape's skin all but invisible. It had raised arms, showing off its muscles from the moment it had erupted from the pokeball, showing its, light brown in colour, with strange grayish bracelets on its wrists. Scientists had yet to work out whether this is a result of tradition, or whether, like Machoke, it had to restrain its strength. Its muscles were well toned and stuck out like a Wookie at a Noghri family reunion. Its legs were much the same way, big, well built muscles and a fairly large foot too. Finally, its face was pretty much covered. What could be seen though were the narrow slits that were Primeape's eyes midway up its body, glaring at everything, and a pudgy pink nose just below it. This Primeape's nose actually seemed a little off centre, as though it had been punched many times. And of course somewhere below that, though not visible beneath its body fur, was its mouth, for it was possible for it to talk in its own language. Though it was fairly confident, Primeape also looked worried, for it knew what had happened to its comrade. Rather than be put off by this however, its resolve was stronger than ever, and it told Mr. Despotta so with a wink and a smile.  
  
"Okay Primeape, COME ON!" yelled Mr. Despotta to no-one in particular, but simply wanting to boost his own confidence level really, considering how easily Gyarados knocked Tauros aside.  
  
"Oh puleeeeze!" thought Mark carelessly. "He's gonna use that feeble thing? Primeape isn't fit for licking my boots when I become the pokemon master!" he continued viciously. "That Tauros was despicably weak, just like squashing a fly, and so is this Primeape. Doesn't anyone have any strong pokemon?" he asked himself.  
  
"I withdraw Gyarados!" cried Mark arrogantly, albeit predictably for Joseph and Mark's pokemon, a move with made Mr. Despotta's jaw drop slightly, Gyarados do its dragon version of a sigh, and Joseph roll his eyes and shake his head at the same time. "Do it, Victreebel!" he yelled. The thrown pokeball landed on a rock with a loud crunch, and burst open to reveal its pokemon. This pokemon looked a bit like a Venus Fly Trap. It had no real face as such, but just a large circular mouth with several visible teeth, and two tiny, barely visible eyes just below its 'lip'. The mouth was on top of its main 'body', which was a cylindrical yellow, well, thing, with a few small brown dots scattered randomly in separate intervals along its body, much like when a human gets measles. Three bright green, healthy looking leaves also sprouted out of this pokemon's body at various places as well, one on each side of its body and the third leaf on top, partly covering its mouth. Finally, a thin, long brown stem was seen from the middle of Victreebel's top leaf, which hung behind Victreebel and hung the full length of its body, almost touching the ground with a mysterious yellow bulbous thing, which looked a bit like chili on the end. What this was, or what it did was still a mystery to humans though.  
  
"Okay, Primeape!" yelled Mr. Despotta encouragingly, albeit nervously, "Show them your anger, but no mercy!" he cried, punching the air with his ragged fist. "Thrash attack, now!" he ordered. Primeape nodded, and stared at the ground, focusing its anger. It started shaking all of a sudden, at first subtly, then more obviously, and before long it was shaking aggressively, almost uncontrollably, with anger and rage. Joseph could only imagine what horrors Primeape had in its mind to get this angry. Though he didn't know this, the main focus of Primeape's anger was simply the fall of its friend, Tauros, for those two had been friends for more than forty years, and were closer to each other than anyone else, even their master, and thus it was natural that one's defeat brought out anger and the thirst for revenge in the other. Mr. Despotta knew this well, and purposely harnessed this power for his use, for he knew Mark had strong pokemon. Very strong pokemon. Primeape, still gathering its emotions, started turning red all of a sudden, as if someone had put an oven inside Primeape's mouth. Starting off as a bright pink, the pink gradually became a brick red, then, as it became a darker red, blood red, then finally, purple, although this latest change in colour might indeed have been brought about as the result of Primeape holding its breath while all this was happening, and as such had not breathed for over a minute. Wisely, it stopped, took a few deep, deep breaths, before letting out a mighty roar, or as close to a roar a Primeape can manage anyway, and charged in a furious frenzy towards Victreebel.  
  
"Awww, come on, gimme a break!" thought Mark, shaking his head at the same time. "This won't be any challenge at all!" he continued. "Oh well, if that pitiful pokemon is the best that he can do, I guess I'll just have to crush him... As always," he sighed, for although he loved to conquer weak trainers and their pokemon, he also wished for a challenge. Basically, this was boring him to no end. "Victreebel, just block the move," he said, the annoyance of even having to bother evident in his voice.  
  
Victreebel moved, or rather, hopped ninety degrees so that Primeape was charging at its left side. Sticking out a leaf, it touched Primeape on the head, and, amazingly, just held Primeape at bay as if it required no effort at all (which it probably didn't). Primeape roared once more, and kept charging, or trying to charge at least anyway, because Victreebel's single leaf held it completely at bay. It looked rather ridiculous really, Victreebel, with just one leaf, was preventing Primeape from moving with a single leaf without breaking a sweat, even though Primeape was at full power.  
  
"What on earth?!" shouted Mr. Despotta, fretting. "Primeape's at its full strength! The power needed to just to slow it down, never mind stopping it altogether at the moment would be enormous!" he said, "and now, Victreebel's just playing with it!" continued Mr. Despotta worriedly. "This is not good," he murmured, half troubled, half awed. "How could a Victreebel like that generate so much power? To fully stop Primeape in its tracks, it'd have to be at least level forty five! And very few people in the world have pokemon of that power," he thought. "It's not possible for him to have leveled up his pokemon so much in just a few years!" he said, greatly troubled.  
  
"You fool!" laughed Mark, "you miserable, pitiful old fool! Tell me, old man, what is the point of a person to have powerful family connections like the ones I have, if you hesitate to manipulate it to your advantage?" he asked mockingly. "Up there in the highest levels of society, those who hesitate, die," he told him. "That's how my family and I became so wealthy, and why you will never be so," he said.  
  
"No," said Mr. Despotta sadly, "no Mark. Your father did not become wealthy by being sneaky, nor a great orator, nor with deception, or anything else. He achieved his wealth through perseverance and good will, Mark. Why is it that no-one will work for you as a servant, do you think, though you offer them the largest pay cheques in New Bark Town? It's certainly not because of money. It is you, Mark. When you learn this, and change your attitude, perhaps then life will unfold itself for you," he said.  
  
From the nearby tree, Joseph winced. "Oh man, I don't think that was the right thing to tell him!" he thought, "he's never handled those sorts of lessons well. Mr. Despotta might as well have been talking to a brick wall, only this wall fights back, and fights back hard!" he exclaimed.  
  
"Arggghh!" cried Mark angrily; trying desperately to get Mr. Despotta's words out of his head. Though they kept coming back, Mark pushed those thought deep enough to temporarily be able to concentrate once more. "Quit it, old man! I have no time to hear your riddles, nor the time for your excuses. I have a match to win, and by the gods, win it I shall!" he declared savagely. "Now, Victreebel, Giga Drain!" ordered Mark. Victreebel nodded at once, hopped back, for though Primeape had long stopped trying to struggle, it had made sure Primeape wouldn't do anything funny by holding onto it until then. Bending over, mouth angled towards Primeape, Victreebell let loose from its mouth a strange greenish hue, like that commonly seen in forests of every kind. The air around it seemed to sparkle all of a sudden, a similar yet lighter green colour, with a hint of yellow. Primeape groaned out of the blue, and collapsed, falling on its knees. Again, its body started shaking, but this time it seemed it was from its body's weakness, no doubt from the Giga Drain. Its muscles were aching and it was sweating uncontrollably. Still, it struggled, even as its arms and legs wobbled visibly, like a tornado blowing against a tree, tearing at its foundations. Finally, Primeape succumbed, its muscles failed, and it fell, face first into the dirt. It did not rise again.  
  
"What?!" shouted Mark scornfully, "you call that a Giga Drain attack? That was more like Absorb!" he scolded. "Be sure to do better next time, Victreebel, or else!" he shouted at the poor pokemon. He looked back up at Mr. Despotta gleefully. "You are no match for me old man! Give up now!" he commanded, pointing his finger at Mr. Despotta, "or you and your pokemon will pay dearly!" he yelled.  
  
But Mr. Despotta was not easily intimidated, nor frightened as a result of many years of experience, especially not by what he called a 'rowdy teenager', such as Mark. "I don't care if you are a thousand times stronger than me. Whether you defeat me or not is irrelevant, but my words shall stay and haunt you for long after!" he cried defiantly. "You are no trainer, you are a monster!" he shouted, putting a lot of weight on that last word.  
  
"Why you." shouted Mark aggressively, though lost for words. He didn't even want to think about what Mr. Despotta had said. Desperately, he again buried his thoughts and said "yeah, right. Now, are you going to send out your next pokemon, or just let Primeape lie there on the ground?" he asked calmly in a very un-Mark like way.  
  
"Return, Primeape," said Mr. Despotta, conceding the point. "You can't hide from your feelings forever you know, Mark. Eventually, it will hunt you down," he told him. "But I have a feeling you don't exactly like this discussion. So go, Camerupt! See what you can do!" he yelled, and threw the pokeball. Out came Camerupt, bursting with vibrant energy. Or at least it showed as much energy a Camerupt could be expected to have, for they were fairly slow and lazy, albeit powerful. Camerupt was, as its name suggests, like a camel, but infused with the power of fire. For one, it had a fire red body, a short, stubby tail of the same colour, four large paws, and three blue rings on its side, although what those symbolised was anyone's guess. Also prominent were a cow-like head with a brown snout, and of course the two humps on top of it, also the same brownish colour. These were in the shape of two miniature volcanoes, though both Mr. Despotta and Joseph knew that Camerupt's body was a living, erupting volcano, which held magma, some of which reached temperatures of up to 18 000 degrees Fahrenheit.  
  
Though the Camerupt was certainly impressive, it was no more than just another weak obstacle in Mark's eyes, Mark himself remaining obviously undaunted. To the contrary, he laughed. "Ha! A Camerupt, eh? Well, at least this time you chose a pokemon that, with training, could become extremely powerful," he said. "And so I answer power with power!" he declared, "go, Dragonite!" he yelled, stretching out that last word, and incidentally shocking Mr. Despotta out of his skin.  
  
That last word made Mr. Despotta's blood run cold. Time seemed to stop. "No!" he thought, refusing to believe at first. Then, as time passed, and slowly resumed its usual tempo, Mr. Despotta started to fear more and more that this was no bluff. "In any case," thought Mr. Despotta, "there is only one way to find out. Although I'm not sure I want to find out," he continued.  
  
It might have just been Mr. Despotta's brain playing tricks again, but this pokeball seemed to open slowly. The usual bright flash of light came, and seemed, for a moment, to last forever, before passing again. The shape emerged, and there hovered Dragonite, steady and firm , no less than a metre off the ground. Dragonite looked pretty much what you would expect from a dragon pokemon, except perhaps slightly less fierce. Indeed at the moment, this Dragonite had a funny grin on its face, oblivious to Mark's current mood. Its body was a beautiful light orange, which included its long and thick tail, its two majestic wings, four large paws, and its round, cute face. It also had a very pale yellow underbelly, with thin, black horizontal stripes going across it. It had two wings, which weren't all that big, but obviously had a lot of power behind them to be able to hold Dragonite in the air at all. The wings were the same light orange on top, but on the side facing the bottom, a beautiful light blue, such as you might see in very clear bodies of water, was featured. It had four paws, again all orange, which each had three grey claws which looked extremely sharp, which looked to be able to tear through a lot. Finally, it had a quite adorable head, charming and innocent, featuring two large, shining, round knowing black eyes, two small black nostrils the size of a pea, and a fairly large mouth that was mostly hidden by its large nose. As well, there were two short and cute antennae sticking out from Dragonite's head, brown in colour, and drifting about in the wind.  
  
"Get that stupid smile off your face, Dragonite!" shouted Mark angrily. "Now is not the time for comedy, I'm in a battle in case you haven't noticed," he said, frustrated. Dragonite reacted cautiously to its noisy new master, being use to the kindness of Mark's grandfather, but, recognizing Mark, quickly complied and got serious.  
  
Meanwhile, Joseph, in the tree, shook his head nervously. "Oh no." he said quietly, hiding his horror, "who knows what he'll do now that he's using Dragonite. I just hope that poor Camerupt, as well as Mr. Despotta don't get beat up too bad," he thought. "Hang in there," he continued, looking at Mr. Despotta sadly, "hang in there."  
  
A few metres away from Joseph, Mr. Despotta was actually trembling for the first time in this match, and indeed the first time in a long time. But, calling on his years of experience and hardy nature, he determined not to back away. "Ready Camerupt?" he asked. "We will defeat Dragonite, or we will fall trying," he declared, gritting his teeth, for he knew full well that he would have no choice but to fall, and Camerupt appeared to realise this as well. "Alright Camerupt!" he yelled, "Give it your all! 210%! Eruption attack, now!" he yelled, calling upon a move which he had taught Camerupt with a TM, for he had received this TM from a raffle in a local club one day; one could not buy it anywhere in Kanto, Johto, Hoenn or Oore.  
  
Camerupt nodded grimly, knowing this would be its last stand, but was willing to do so for its master. Steam started pouring out of its two humps on its back as it prepare to spew out the lava that was forever churning within its volcanic body. The churning sounds grew louder and louder, until it could be heard without difficulty by the trainers. Camerupt shook, as the magma struggled and struggled, pushing to get out. Camerupt, when it judged it was the right time, dipped its neck, which was surprisingly flexible, so that it was touching the ground. The result was that the humps on its back were angled up towards the still passive Dragonite, looking on with interest. Without any warning at all, the magma stopped moving for but a second. Then, it blew. BAM! With the force of an atom bomb, Camerupt's two humps simultaneously erupted, spewing all that 18 000 degree Fahrenheit magma out in a rush, like water might flow after a dam collapses, that deadly fire heading straight for Dragonite. This eruption was also heard from people's homes in the middle of New Bark Town, sending terror to many poor villagers. Grounds groaned, walls cringed and people shook as that explosion reached their positions.  
  
But Mark had not been doing nothing either. "Dragonite, show them who's boss, shall we?" he asked a few seconds before the eruption. "Hyper beam attack, now!" he called excitedly, waiting for it to come and crush Camerupt. Dragonite roared, and opened its mouth wide, as if it was going to the pokemon dentist. From the air, Dragonite drew small yellow spheres of pure energy, which rapidly gathered in the immediate area in front of Dragonite's mouth. This collective ball of pure energy became bigger and bigger, just as the churning noises from Camerupt had become bigger and bigger, eventually growing to the size of a watermelon. Then, at the time it deemed most appropriate (and happened to be the same time as Camerupt's Eruption attack was released), it pulled its head back, then brought it forward again quickly, and sending the powerful beam directly into the path of the Eruption attack.  
  
The initial impact was staggering. The two beams came together with such power that Mark and Mr. Despotta were blown back, each about ten metres. The hapless referee was also blown back at the same time. Branches were completely torn off trees, and whirlwinds of sand were whipped up from just the first energy wave alone. Even bare rocks were hurtled into the sky, some bigger than a football. Mr. Despotta was unfortunate enough to have unintentionally strayed into the path of a particularly large branch, and was smashed in the knee by it. Though not seriously injured, Mr. Despotta found that his knee hurt whenever he put any weight on that foot. The referee himself got a considerable amount of sand in his eyes and was blinded for the next few minutes while he tried to get it out. Joseph, however, was by far the most unlucky of the group. Falling from the tree, he landed on head first, and his head hit a root from a tree with a thud. Even worse for him, as he was so weak from the fall, he could not help himself as he continued to be swept back by the energy wave. On it continued, until Joseph reached the gate. He hit the gate, again head first, at about forty kilometers an hour with a sickening crunch. Again, luck was to be against him. The gate wobbled, and wobbled after being hit at such speeds right at its base. Finally, it too toppled, and its full weight landed on Joseph, crushing him easily. Joseph laid still, obviously knocked unconscious, possibly even dead; such was the power of the initial energy wave. Only Mark was lucky enough to come out unscathed, though he too had been blown backwards. Put plainly, it was complete and utter chaos.  
  
"It was a bit like that Dragonball Z episode where Gohan and Cell fight with their Kamehameha waves!" Mark would later recall. And indeed it was rather like it, for there were two beams, struggling to overpower each other, with Dragonite of course dominating, but still yet to completely penetrate Camerupt's attack. Then, for no apparent reason, the continuous winds seemed to die down, though the attacks had not stopped. Mark stood up and looked around, searching for an answer. Mr. Despotta carefully took in his surroundings, but still on the ground as his leg could not support his weight.  
  
The first thing these two saw was that the two pokemon were still fighting, going at each other, hammer and tongs, neither giving up, although Dragonite still clearly held the advantage. The second thing they noticed was that at the point where the two attacks met each other, the energy no longer expanded from that point. "That's it!" realised Mr. Despotta, "look Mark! Where those two beams meet, the energies spiral into the air, and it looks like they're expanding into a bubble," he said.  
  
What Mr. Despotta had rightly called an energy bubble looking to be a mystical light green in colour, but otherwise quite hard to describe. It was kind of like a man-made dome that you might see in the city. Well, it was the same shape anyway, but the likeness ended there. The group could still see outside fairly well, although the bubble made everything outside a nice shade of green like the grass that used to grow there. It seemed to reflect all the incoming sunlight rather than absorb it. Where the two attacks were meeting each other, there was simply a bright flash of light that half-blinded everyone. Gradually, this yellowish light changed to become the light green.  
  
"It's always calm in the eye of the storm," quoted Mark, "of course! That's why it's become so calm. The energy produced must be still as powerful as ever, only the bubble's expanded to just outside the fence surrounding this area. Anything inside is calm, but outside." he said, leaving the sentence unfinished. This sentence actually surprised Mr. Despotta quite a bit, for Mark was talking to him as an equal for once, despite his usually bad attitude. "I wouldn't want to be out there," he said.  
  
Only then did the full implications hit Mr. Despotta, and hard. "Mark! We must stop this madness!" he yelled desperately. "If we don't, this could wreak havoc!" he continued.  
  
But his plea fell on deaf ears. "Since when did I follow your orders, old man?" sneered Mark, reverting back to his old self. "I will only stop when you have been defeated!" he declared. "I will settle for no less!"  
  
Just then, as Mr. Despotta was about to reply, there was a huge rumbling noise, the sound of concrete groaning as it pushed against more concrete. "Oh no." breathed Mr. Despotta. The next few moments seemed to go in slow motion. There was a single snapping noise heard coming from the closest building, and then, without warning, it toppled, the huge structure giving way. The energy finally being too much for it to take, the concrete walls collapsed in on itself, as well as crushing the wooden framework. This created a large shock, shaking the ground as if the world was about to end. This only served to deepen the trouble, as the building next to it also screeched in protest, before again it too collapsed in on itself, much like the first building. With a roar, this building came tumbling down, making a humungous crashing sound, louder than anything anyone present had ever heard before as well as creating a shockwave through the earth which were recorded on seismographs all the way from the Science Institute in Cherrygrove City, measuring 2.0 on the Richter scale. This, although not particularly big in comparison to major earthquakes was in its own right very powerful considering it was generated by a pokemon.  
  
Whereas those last few moments seemed to come in slow motion, the next bit seemed to speed up all of a sudden. Before anyone realised what had happened, or what was happening, the next building toppled, and the next, then the next, and the next and the next, creating one heck of a loud sound, and even more tremours. Well actually, loud doesn't do it justice. It was simply tremendous, louder than anyone who was not present could imagine. Dust was thrown in the air along with wood splinters and large blocks of concrete which had no business being that big. Everything in the radius of the buildings, including the sometimes expensive items in the buildings themselves, was completely and utterly crushed, from vases to couches to desks to machinery, nothing survived.  
  
The dust cleared, and Mr. Despotta and the referee looked around in shock, blinking their eyes, not daring to believe. The carnage was almost impossible to describe. Around them was nothing but rubble. Trees were torn out of the ground whole and thrown metres away. Some splintered wood here, some torn leather there and some shards of glass lying around too. But the majority of the rubbish was concrete. Some blocks of concrete were relatively unbroken and in large blocks, but others were reduced to fine dust. Either way, the landscape was turned completely grey by the smattering of concrete. No buildings in sight were still left standing. The Pokemon Trainers School of New Bark Town had been completely wiped out.  
  
For miles around, Mark, Mr. Despotta, the referee, Dragonite, Camerupt and Joseph were the only ones left standing (although the last two can't really be described as standing, both lying motionless on the ground). "But, how come...We're okay?" asked a stunned and shaking Referee. "This whole place.Look at this!" he shouted, for he had, if you remember, sand in his eyes, and hadn't seen what had happened, but had only heard it. It's a complete dump!" he exclaimed, looking around. "Wait! Look around us at the immediate area.Then look at the area around that!" he cried, completely shocked bewildered.  
  
And he had a right to be, for although the area where the buildings lay was a complete and utter mess, the immediate area seemed to have come out more or less fairly unscathed. "Yes," said Mr. Despotta gently. "When Dragonite and Camerupt's attacks met each other, they created an initial shockwave which was fairly powerful already. Since Camerupt continued to sustain its attack, the energy formed something like a bubble," he explained. "I guess that was why we weren't harmed. It's calmest in the eye of the storm, and that was where we were. The buildings were completely ravaged. Anyone within the vicinity would have been killed," he said grimly. "Thank god this was the last match. Or countless people might have died," he said, sending a sharp look at Mark. "Why didn't you stop? What if there were still people there?" raged Mr. Despotta angrily. "I told you to stop it, and you." he seethed.  
  
Mark simply laughed, unfazed by this new bout of anger. "I thought you would have learned by now! I will stop for no-one in my quest. All in my path will fall!" he declared.  
  
"Humph, never mind that, if my Camerupt was stronger there wouldn't be any Johto, Kanto, Hoenn or Oore for you to conquer!" he said. Mentioning Camerupt suddenly reminded him that he had forgotten to tend to his beloved Camerupt, which was still devoid of movement and lying in the dirt, he ran up to it and knelt down by its side slowly. "Oh Camerupt," he mumbled, some tears starting to form in his eyes, I am so sorry," he said. "But I couldn't give up, you know?" he asked, "I just couldn't. Camerupt, oh thank you and well done. Return," he breathed sadly. This picture was somewhat symbolic to Mark, Mr. Despotta kneeling next to Camerupt, though he didn't know why. It would take him a long time to figure it out.  
  
Interrupting this touching moment, several sirens could be heard in the distance, and fast approaching. It appeared the emergency services had finally arrived. A police motorcycle with Officer Jenny and three ambulances quickly stormed into the premises, before turning and heading towards the centre arena. "Alright, ambulance crews, move out! Look for any people in the wreckage!" ordered Officer Jenny. She was wearing the same police uniform as always, the deep blue top and skirt, a black handbag no bigger than an A4 piece of paper, white gloves, and the same blue police uniform cap. In short, the same as always. "What on earth happened here? I was on my way here in the first place, but when I was driving on Snubble Pass I heard a bang, and then a few seconds later, I felt a longer chain of earth tremours, "she said, her long blue hair swinging as she looked from person to person.  
  
"Well, it's a long story," began the referee, sighing, "But to put it short, it's the exam time at the PTS. I'm sure you know how it goes, the students battle the teachers, and so Mark here used his Dragonite, yes a Dragonite Ma'am" he added pointedly, seeing the look on her face. "And then, his opponent, poor Mr. Despotta here-" he continued, pointing to the figure still kneeling on the ground and sobbing uncontrollably.  
  
"Wow, that man needs serious medical treatment. I hope he's all right," thought Officer Jenny grimly, looking at the solitary figure on the ground. "Wait a sec," she interrupted out loud, holding out one white gloved hand palm towards the referee. Looking away, she yelled "hey Pauline! Get over here and give this man some assistance! I don't think he's doing to well!" At the affirmative nod from one of the ambulance crew, she turned her head back towards the referee. "Sorry, please continue," she told him.  
  
"Alright, well as I was saying, Mr. Despotta had a Camerupt. Camerupt used eruption, Dragonite met it with Hyper Beam, and the resulting clash when the two attacks met, the powerful energy waves, caused all this wanton and purposeless destruction. Mr. Despotta tried to stop it, but. Mark wouldn't listen at all," he informed her. "What on earth was he thinking?!" he raged in his head. "That foolish boy, we could have all been killed, and all he cares about is winning!" he thought angrily.  
  
"Why weren't you harmed?" she asked curiously, interrupting his thoughts and sneaking a glance towards Mark. "Sure looks like him," she thought to herself privately. "By all accounts, all of you should be dead. Oh and by the way, does that Mark happen to be Mark Witsinski?" she asked out loud. "I hope he's not actually," she thought, "I'm not looking forward to telling him. Nope, not at all," she decided.  
  
"Dead huh? Heh, that's a nice thought," he winced admittedly. Until now everything that had recently transpired had really seemed, well, unreal, and fake, as if the ref still didn't believe what had happened, and to tell the truth, it hadn't really sunk in to anyone present at all yet really, except possibly for Mark. "Yes he is," said the ref. "Why?" he asked. He waved his hand dismissingly just as Officer Jenny was about to speak. "Never mind, I don't think I want to know," he said quickly, seeing the hesitant and worried look on the officer's face. She nodded too in response, waiting for him to continue. And, well, as to what happened, I don't really know how to explain it myself. You see, I had gotten sand in my eyes, so I missed it completely!" exclaimed the referee frustratingly. "Mr. Despotta and Mark saw it, but I still can't make out anything from their explanation. But maybe you'll have some better luck with him," he said. "Good luck too," he added pointedly.  
  
She nodded, accepting his advice. "That boy is trouble," she thought, her piercing eyes darting around, looking at Mark. "Very well. Thank you. If you'll just leave your contact details with me, you may go. We may need to ask you about this event again. Or in legal proceedings," she added darkly. Nodding solemnly, the referee did as he was told, and then positively scrambled away at the speed of light. "Poor man," she commented. "Well, I guess I'll go question Mark myself," she thought. Then, turning, she walked up to Mark, who was standing in the exact same spot as he was when she had arrived. "Boy, this guy's gonna be a tough nut for me to crack, I can see that!" she thought to herself. "Mark Witsinski?" she asked.  
  
"Yeah, that's me," he said. "And tell me, please, what do you want to know about what happened here?" he asked mockingly.  
  
"Well firstly, I want to know if you can drop that attitude of yours!" snapped Officer Jenny. She had gone through rigourous police training, which, amongst other things, had taught her how to deal well with repugnant people with attitudes like Mark. But, remembering her original duty, she decided to soften a little. "I don't want to get him too upset, or he'll get even angrier when I tell him," she thought. And that was something she definitely did not want to bring about herself. "I'm sorry. Please, tell me why you and the others were unharmed," she said quietly.  
  
"Oh, well, all right," responded Mark gruffly, surprised, and more than a little fazed by Officer Jenny's change of heart. This in itself was a rare event, Mark giving way that is. Perhaps he too had sensed the conflicting emotions within Officer Jenny. And so he again proceeded to the laborious task of telling Officer Jenny about the two attacks clashing, the shockwave they created, the energy bubble, and so on.  
  
Officer Jenny listened to this, and looked on in amazement, temporarily forgetting about her strife. "Wow," she thought, "I'd better inform Professor Oak and his aides quickly, he may just want to question one of these guys. This is a strange phenomenon, I'll say that much. An energy bubble eh? This is completely unheard of in the scientific world," she exclaimed in her mind. "One other thing," she added as he finished. "Tell me why I shouldn't arrest you now," she said sternly, and although she never did have the intention of arresting him, she did indeed want to see how he would react.  
  
"Huh, you would dare to arrest me?" he laughed, as if the very thought was ridiculous. "I doubt that highly, but just to satisfy you, this is why," he said coldly. "There currently is no law condemning destruction, if that destruction comes from a pokemon's move that is simply too powerful, and was never done on purpose to harm people, get it?" he asked viciously. "It's as much Mr. Despotta's fault as mine," he spat. "Ha! Detain me! Yeah right. Like you could. Wait till Gramps hears about my victory. He'll be proud I tell you!" he declared blindly.  
  
"He would have been proud? Maybe." she murmured, and though she did not believe that, she felt compassion for him, and this was evident in her voice and face. "Mark Witsinski," she said, slowly looking up at him. Mark felt a terrible crushing feeling in his heart, not wanting to hear what Officer Jenny had to say at all. Frankly, it frightened him, another rare occurrence, and it did so for good reason. "Should I tell him?" she asked herself, greatly troubled by the news she brought. But, inevitably, her arguments and emotional turmoil, combined with her duty, left her with no other option but to speak. And there too was Mark, steadily waiting for what she had to say. Uncertain, but feeling he could deal with anything. "Can you? Can you really deal with it? Something such as this?' she asked herself again, looking at him. Again, there was no other answer but to tell Mark. "Duty requires it," she told herself.  
  
"Mark Witsinski," she repeated sadly and slowly, "your Grandfather.is dead." 


	8. Fork of Destiny

CHAPTER 8-FORK OF DESTINY  
  
Time stood completely still. The world, and everything in it, was erased. Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, Oore, and all the land masses were gone. The oceans and the seas, the lakes, rivers and tiny streams. Humans, pokemon, and animals alike, they were all scoured from the earth. New Bark Town, the Pokemon Trainers School, all ceased to exist. The bright yellow flowers, the gently swaying grass, the wrecked buildings, all disappeared. All that was left was nothingness, a void...And Mark's lone figure. The sole thing in existence, such was his frame of mind. Mark was shaking visibly. "No..." he breathed, not daring to believe. "No..... No...." was all he seemed to be able to utter.  
  
The second passed, and time resumed its normal passing. "NO!!!" shouted Mark, still not believing. Then, turning swiftly, but less than quietly, he positively fled, his feet thumping as they touched the grass. He was running quicker than he had ever done before, leaving everyone behind in a matter of seconds and disappearing around the corner. Officer Jenny just stood there and looked on sadly, making no effort at all to stop Mark.  
  
"Leave him be for now," she said quietly to the ambulance crews. "He needs time to think," she decided.  
  
"Dragonite!" cried Dragonite, sharing part of Mark's anguish, for although it knew Mark was not the best of trainers, he was still its trainer, and so it grieved. "Dragonite!" it called, looking up at the sky. Slowly, the glint off a tear seemed to form at the edge of Dragonite's eyes, but was gone the next second, disappearing as suddenly as it had appeared.  
  
"Wow, what a sight!" marveled Officer Jenny. "Was it just an illusion? Or was it for real?" she asked herself. Slowly, a little afraid at first, she walked up quietly behind Dragonite. Dragonite turned a little, analyzing her, before accepting her and turning back to look at the slowly dipping sun. Officer Jenny was both encouraged and moved by this gesture, and put one soft hand on Dragonite's shoulder, thinking. Thinking of Mark, of Dragonite, and of today's unexpected events.  
  
The strands of time desperately trying to hold that moment weakened, then snapped, and the familiar sense of duty once again returned to Officer Jenny. "Dragonite, you... You need to be with Mark," she said to the majestic pokemon. Dragonite looked up slowly into the sky again, as if it was sighing to the heavens, and then slowly nodded. "Or rather, Mark needs you," she added. "He may be too angry and proud to admit it, but someday, he'll look back and appreciate you being there Dragonite," she told him. "Or at least, I certainly hope he will," she muttered. Dragonite shook his head exasperatingly in agreement. "Also, give him this when you find him please," said Officer Jenny, taking off the leather satchel strapped to her shoulder, which seemed to contain a bulky object inside. "I was supposed to give this to him along with the news, but under the circumstances..." she broke off.  
  
Dragonite looked at the item inside, and then nodded, albeit dubiously. "Yeah, I know, I know. But give these to him after he calms down a bit, and maybe then he won't act too brash," replied Officer Jenny, who understood Dragonite's thoughts on this matter all too well for her own liking. "Not that it would matter, from what I've seen of Mark," she thought. "I wouldn't be surprised if he just smashes them to bits when he sees it. Still, I have to try," she continued. "Good luck Dragonite," she murmured. "You'll need a lot of it."  
  
"Officer!" interrupted a voice, just as Dragonite was about to take off. "We've found someone in the wreckage!" the distant voice continued. From the distance, the tall figure of one of the ambulance officers came running towards Officer Jenny. "He is still breathing and has a weak pulse, but he's out. I believe he may be in a coma," she said. "His name appears to be Joseph Maros, but we're not one hundred percent sure," she told her. "He's sustained a few injuries, but most of it is just bruising. He was very lucky," she told Officer Jenny. "A part of the fence fell on him," she continued.  
  
"Ouch!" commented Officer Jenny, wincing. "He was lucky. Well, this isn't good for Mark," she stated. At the confused glance from the other woman, she took to explaining the situation. "Well, Joseph was Mark's best friend. His only friend too," she added. Her eyes clouded. "Dragonite, wait just one sec. She took out a pen and a pad of paper and began writing furiously. "Someone needs to tell him of Joseph too," she explained.  
  
Finally, after two minutes of writing, she stopped. Putting away her pen, she then folded and gave Dragonite an A4 page. "Put it in the bag," she said. "Well, you'd better get going, you have a lot of work to do," she sighed.  
  
"So, the events have come, and the stage has been set. The question is, what will you do now with your life, Mark Witsinski?" she asked in her head. "We shall see I suppose," she thought. Turning to the ambulance crews which had now assembled, along with a stretcher bearing the unconscious and battered body of Joseph, she said "come on. I've had enough of this place anyway. Other policemen will be here soon to check things out. I'll escort you to the hospital. Let's get going." And, with a last glance at the nexus point of today's events, or rather, what was left of it, she hopped onto her police motorbike and zoomed out, with the ambulances in tow, their combined sirens screeching into the air.  
  
Dragonite opened its majestic yet relatively small wings as it prepared to take off. They were not the kind of wings you would expect from a dragon, the huge wide wings you might see on television. Dragonite slowly began to flap its wings, and then lifted off the ground.  
  
Mark sped aimlessly through town like a madman, so engrossed in his rage was he. He didn't care where he went; he just knew he had to get away from it all. Thus he ran, faster than he had ever done so before. His feet beat the ground firmly with every step. Countless men, women and children alike yelled and shouted angrily as he violently pushed past them. This, Mark did not notice. Pokemon barked and growled as he half tripped over them. This, he did not notice. Cars blared loudly at him as he ran across roads, often blocking what traffic there was (as New Bark Town was generally a very small and quiet town) and generally causing chaos on the roads. This, he did not notice either, such was his sorrow.  
  
He was in agony. Such exquisite pain was impossible for Mark, or anyone else, to fully describe. His emotions sprang up all at the same time, all fighting to come out. His body was burning, screaming, protesting at the torment. For Mark, who had lost his parents early in his life, had now lost the last semblance of family. The bonds barely holding him and his feeble self together had snapped. This was pure, vile anger. The only thing in his mind that actually formed enough to become intelligible to Mark's brain was but one word: run.  
  
And by the gods, run he did all right. His rampage continued as he ran like a stampeding horde of Tauros, past the newsagent, where adults were buying newspapers and magazines of all sorts, past the candy store full of children, and many other small shops selling this tidbit or that thingamajig. He turned, and kicked a metal bin, making a huge clanging noise, making onlookers stare, as well as giving the bin a huge dent. He put all his emotion into the kick, as well as his considerable body strength.  
  
All this time, he was yelling his head off. "NO!" he cried, "Gramps! Gramps! Paul!" he yelled, which was probably the first time he had called his Grandfather by that name. "Grandfather!" he continued, stopping his frenzied dash, if only for a few seconds. "Why did you go? NO!" he shouted, clenching his fists. His anger soared to even more incredible heights. "PAUL! GRAMPS! GRANDFATHER!" he yelled at the top of his voice, straining his lungs to no end. People just stood there, gaping, muttering amongst themselves. But no person present wished to try and stop Mark, which was probably a good thing. "GRANDFATHER!" he shouted again, still clenching his fists hard, fingernails digging into his skin, though he seemed not to notice. "ARGH!" he yelled, and right on cue, the fire hydrant top suddenly rattled violently. People nearby started turning their attention to the suddenly mobile top of the fire hydrant. "GRANDFATHER!" yelled Mark for the third time in his anguish. The fire hydrant top exploded off, flying many metres into the air. The water contained inside it sprayed out with it, flying even higher than the top, and drenching everyone within a radius of about ten metres. People blinked, unsure of what had just occurred. Cars skidded to a halt. Office assistants stopped their usual work and looked out of the windows. Mark took one glance at the high fountain of water, before snapping once again into his trance-like state of chaos. "NO!" he yelled, taking off again at breakneck speeds. Passers by simply blinked meekly again, not quite sure what to make of the strange proceedings. It was certainly not the average day at work for most residents.  
  
In a matter of minutes Mark's continual destructive frenzy (for he had attacked everything from the simple garbage bin to brick walls everywhere) had taken him past the business district of New Bark Town (if you could call it that, for the "district" was hardly a few kilometers squared) and into the quieter residential district, distinctly larger than its busier counterpart. Gradually, the small number of cars that were on the roads of New Bark Town lessened, as did Mark's collisions with pedestrians, though this in part was due to the fact that word had been spread about a "raving lunatic".  
  
Yet still, despite the lack of people, Mark still ran, past the numerous brick houses, not forgetting to kick the gate, past garages both new and old, and past the occasional mansion, still shoving aside the unlucky person once in a while. He punched the lamp post, hammered the concrete and threw sticks at walls. Everything that could be done was done. And thus the same continued for several minutes, until his painful grief took him outside the town, and onto a large hill on the outskirts, overlooking all of New Bark Town.  
  
It was only here that the highly agitated form of Mark stopped, though it seemed only for a rest, for he was panting hard indeed. This hill proudly stood alone overlooking the city, for the rest of the land north and east of New Bark Town was all dedicated to farming as far as the eye could see. There was short grass all around but not a tree to be seen anywhere near the vicinity, though there was but one boulder on that hill, strangely enough. How it had gotten there Mark had no idea, and nor did he have any interest in finding out, though it was most likely the remnants of a battle held previously on that ground. Elsewhere, all around Mark, paddocks, their golden produce basking gloriously in the sun as they showed themselves off, and the ocean just south of the town could just be glimpsed, those majestic green-blue waters extravagantly reflecting the sun's rays. To the west, the route leading towards Cherrygrove city, Route 29, could be seen. Yet Mark, though stopped, nonetheless still did not notice these things, instead, sadly, focusing on his rage again. -- "GRAMPS!!!" he screamed one more time, putting all his grief, anger, sadness, and indeed all the emotions in his fragile body into the scream of anguish. Without warning at all, the nearby boulder suddenly fractured, and split into tiny pieces before you could utter a sound. One moment it was there, and the next, fragments of the large boulder were flying every which way. Mark Witsinski stopped, and fell on his knees, collapsing to the ground. And there he remained; sobbing uncontrollably at all he had lost today.  
  
Dragonite looked down at the city in a mixture of sadness and amazement as he flew over. At one intersection, two cars had crashed, although thankfully both drivers seemed to be okay. One car had skidded into a traffic light. That was now rather went, and definitely out of commission for a while. Another small kid not yet seven perhaps was being helped to walk, as he himself was limping. The poor kid's leg was bandaged by a makeshift material, probably from someone's shirt, and held crude crutched made from wood, which nevertheless seemed to dot he trick. Further on in the chaos, the fire hydrant was still spewing water high into the air, the likes of which might be seen in a natural geyser in certain places. Dragonite didn't even want to know what had happened there, or anywhere else really for that matter.  
  
Mark's trail was fairly easy to follow, especially in the busier bits of town, (just follow the grey concrete road with rubbish all over it) though as Dragonite got into the more residential-based areas, its job did get a bit harder, though not impossible by any means. In fact, the destruction was perhaps even more of a stand out, for the marks left by Mark were easily spotted from the air with Dragonite's keen eyes.  
  
It was amazing how much chaos one little kid could cause by himself in the city. Garbage bins were spewing their unwanted contents along roadsides, one light pole seemed to have a rather large dent in it, and one gate to a mansion was reasonably bent. It seemed that Mark had not only run, but had gone out of his way to destroy anything he had come across. This angered Dragonite slightly, though it certainly didn't blame the boy. So sadly following the trail of destruction, Dragonite dutifully flew in search of its master, along with its payload.  
  
This route took him outside the city, where the destruction it seemed had finally stopped, though of course this was probably due to the lack of objects to throw, kick, punch or smash. From the outskirts, Dragonite, being a dragon, could see quite clearly that Mark's solitary figure was perched on top of the only hill around for miles. Flying forward quickly, it flew straight, and then up, directly attacking the cliff face, and then hovered in front of Mark's shaking form. Dragonite landed softly on the grass next to Mark, who was still kneeling, and put one thick orange hand softly on Mark's back comfortingly, making sure Mark knew that Dragonite was there for him. Mark continued to sob quietly, on and on. Yet Dragonite let him cry, and hopefully Mark would get some of that anger out of him. Or at least, that was Dragonite's plan anyway. In so many ways, Dragonite wanted to say something to Mark to make him feel better, to comfort him. It wished it could ease its master's pain. Yet something rightfully told Dragonite there was nothing it could do, except be there.  
  
Instead, Dragonite looked around and saw the fragments of the boulder, but didn't ask any questions for obvious reasons. Instead, it saw that Mark had been injured, presumably by a flying piece of the rock. It knew Mark would be fine, even without any treatment for the injury, for it was only a flesh wound, and would heal in time. But pressed by Dragonite's feeling of helplessness, combined with its good nature, it focused its mythical powers, and glowed blue as it emitted the soothing blue waves. For Mark, there was an immediate and almost unbelievable change. The physical pain was gone. But in reality it did little for Mark, for that physical pain nothing, not even comparable to the emotional pain he was experiencing. It was doubtful that he even noticed. If anything, the absence of physical pain made the emotional pain worse, and even more unbearable, for with his injury, there was something to divert his thoughts.  
  
And so Mark got up silently, walked to the edge of the cliff, and remained there, dangerously close to the edge, which led to quite a drop, perhaps a hundred metres or so in height. Not that Mark knew, or cared most likely. Dragonite was prepared to stand for however long it took until Mark got going again though, for it understood Mark's pain, and, in its own little way, shared it too. Perhaps Mark was not the easiest trainer to get on with, but he most certainly did have his qualities.  
  
Memories flowed through Mark's head, ones from years ago, and ones from but a few days previous, yet all were linked to his Grandfather. "He was always there..." murmured Mark, lost in his thoughts.  
  
The first time he had seen Paul through his baby eyes; those sparkling blue eyes of Paul's, which had always seemed to light up with crackling energy and joy at the sight of Mark. He picked up the then tiny Mark, smiling to no end, laughing with the kid, and playing with him. "This was taken from me..." muttered Mark, clenching his fists and tensing slightly.  
  
More memories sprung to mind. The first word he learned to speak, his parents had told him, was "Gramps", though "food" and "Mama" had apparently come soon after. "He was...Such a great guy," admitted Mark, "and he never ever minded me calling him Gramps either!" he remarked sadly, remembering. "When I was learning to walk, Gramps was always there to pick me up, to help me get up one more time than I fell," he thought. Pictures came flashing back. Him when he was a little toddler, crawling on the floor of their old mansion back in Hoenn. Paul had always chased the energetic toddler then, always encouraging him and giving him motivation to try harder, and go for higher things. "He always helped me succeed in my life, no matter how ignorant I was of him..." he murmured sadly. "Yet now..." he broke off, unable to continue.  
  
Instead, additional pictures, images, memories came flooding back. The time when he had learned to ride a bike, Paul had been there, sharing his lovely memories of that time, looking on proudly, rewarding and congratulating him. He had vague memories of falling over on his little bike then, which was no more than half a metre tall. Yet his Grandfather had been there for him, to lift him up again, look after the wound, and happily sending him off to play again. Laughing, rejoicing, dancing, nothing had stood between their joyous times together when he was young. "It was snatched from me!" he thought fiercely, with more life in him now. Dragonite, standing a bit behind him, noticed this, but couldn't tell for sure whether this was a good or bad thing.  
  
And so Mark did stand thus, for minutes, then hours on end. Remembering, thinking, recalling memories, some of which had been long forgotten. Many times he seemed asleep, although Dragonite could always sense that pulsating anger from Mark, which disturbed it a fair bit. Yet it allowed Mark to continue, undisrupted.  
  
Through the night, when all children should go to bed and rest, Mark still stood. The stars seemed not to twinkle this unhappy night, but instead seemed bleak, and miserable. They lacked the shine that they usually possessed. "The same shine in Gramps' eyes," reminisced Mark, perhaps his first observation since the tragedy. The frowning dark night came and went, chased off by the glorious sun. Yet still, Mark stood.  
  
"He was the first to show me a pokemon..." Mark remembered. "It was... a.... Butterfree, yeah that's it!" he thought. The most beautiful thing..." he whispered. "But then, he was taken from me...TAKEN!" he roared out loud. Dragonite shifted slightly, still observing Mark.  
  
Dragonite sense a shift of emotion in Mark-his thoughts became darker and darker, angrier, as time went on. He was thinking of nothing, yet everything at the same time. And so Dragonite stood watch over this unstable and melancholy figure.  
  
Mark thoughts unwillingly drifted to his first day in Kindergarten. A bully had come and teased him. In his mind, he remembered crying out helplessly as they called him names. Nothing that would bother him now-he had gotten smarter than that, but at that age, knowing nothing but the joys of living, playing, and being a child, he had cried, and the bullies just stood, watched, and laughed. They had scorned him, and laughed at him.  
  
When he was doing a presentation of a project in fourth grade, the year before his parents disappeared, he had fallen of his chair. All the students had laughed and pointed at him then. Mark boiled with anger at the thought. He had been helpless. His state of mind twisted his thoughts, as he revisited that day. He fell of his chair, and when he looked up, everyone was staring, laughing. But suddenly, one face started to change. The expression changed from good natured laughter, to a more subtle, malicious intent. Slowly, all the faces around him changed into angry faces, accusing, malicious. Mark trembled. "NO!" he yelled, pulling himself out of the vision. He grabbed his head by his golden hair, and violently shook it from side to side for a few seconds. By the end of that time, he was sweating and breathing hard.  
  
When he was playing basketball, he remembered running towards the hoop. His teammate threw the ball at quick quickly, seeing an opening. Mark concentrated on the ball, and prepared to catch. But his concentration on the ball ultimately led to a lack of concentration in other areas. He didn't watch his feet, and tripped over his own laces. He seemed to fall slowly in his mind, as he continued to stare at the ball even as he was falling. The lines on the basketball gained life, and started  
shifting. They formed into various shaped in seemingly random spots, but when they stopped, Mark gasped. Now they were random shapes no longer, but a face! A dark, laughing face. He could imagine everyone around him, looking, laughing, and pointing, at his clumsiness. The black lines continue to spread as the ball became not orange, but the deepest black. The ball ceased to be a ball, but was instead just a shape, sliding around.  
  
The image disappeared, and Mark was again left clutching his head.  
  
Thus the thoughts came on and on. Each one a dark memory. His mind twisted and shaped each one, turning them into horrible nightmares. But Mark could not stop himself from thinking these thoughts. Dragonite could sense Mark's emotions. Every dark thought came, and went, each slowly torturing Mark in his mind, before leaving.  
  
And then that day too passed on, as the impatient night came once again. The stars twinkled, all seeming to look upon Mark, yet he noticed not the distinct yet suppressed beauty of the stars. Yet still Dragonite stood by its master, watching over him sadly.  
  
Now the memories were nothing short of evil. When his parents had had arguments at night, Mark had laid in his pokemon bed, cowering, afraid. But when they had left... At first he had believed what his Grandfather had said, that they would return soon. That everything would be alright. In his naïveté, he had believed him. Yet, as each day passed, his hopes had dwindled. He remembered that he would ask his Grandfather every day after school "Has Mum and Dad come back?" in his sweet voice.  
  
Each day he would get the same reply from Paul. "No, not today Mark. But soon," he had always said. Gradually, as he faced life, Mark transformed himself, though typically, he would never admit it. "Why, he...he lied to me! He lied!" he cried softly. Again, he crumpled on his knees and fell silent, thinking about that one thing. "He lied to me, he lied to me!" was all that ran through his head. There he remained, head bowed, anger coursing through him. At times, his fists were clenched together tightly. Others, he seemed to be perfectly calm, almost asleep in tranquility. Still other times, Mark simply seemed lost.  
  
That night came too, and was gone again. But that night was not like the previous days. Dragonite sensed something...strange. At times, Mark seemed to be in great anger and pain. But as the night went on, Mark anger seemed less obvious. Though this was on the face of it good, Dragonite felt nervous. Something was wrong, it could sense, with Mark's character. Something Dragonite had never felt, experienced or seen before.  
  
The third day commenced, and still Mark was rooted in the same position, not moving, but most definitely not sleeping, though his eyes had begun to droop a little as of late. But Dragonite would have no more, and finally decided to put an end to this. He began to walk up to Mark, intending to wake him up from his trance like state.  
  
Mark stood up suddenly, just as Dragonite was no more than a metre from Mark, shocking the great dragon pokemon. Mark was... Different, Dragonite sensed. It was one fluid motion that Dragonite had seen, smooth and elegant, contrasting strongly to the movement last made by Mark three days ago. Movements that had been jerky and filled with anger.  
  
Dragonite could still sense the continual anger in Mark. Yet this anger seemed not to be as prominent in Mark's mind as it was before. It now seemed to dwell deeper within the confines of his mind. It should have been a relief to Dragonite; yet it remained wary.  
  
Mark looked up slowly to the sky, filled with dark, threatening clouds, greyer and more formidable than usual. It was completely unbroken, and filled the entire sky as far as the eye could see. "Come, Dragonite! Let us make for Cherrygrove City," he called, almost as a statement to himself rather than Dragonite. His icy, jagged voice cracked through the air like a whip, momentarily stunning Dragonite. This was a vast change from when last he spoke. Mark's voice was now clear, loud, and betrayed absolutely no emotion whatsoever, save for the coldness.  
  
Dragonite did not like this change, and retained a wariness towards Mark. After all, if such anger could be quelled so suddenly...  
  
Remembering something all of a sudden, Dragonite pulled itself out of its disturbing thoughts, hovered, and swiftly flew in front of Mark, who was in the process of turning, finally breaking his gaze from the still sleepy city and the dark ominous clouds which had captured it for so long. Mark stopped in mid-turn, and stayed there, motionless. Dragonite stopped, gauging Mark's reaction. "What on earth is the matter now?!" he snapped irritably.  
  
And snapped was right, Dragonite sensed. Mark's face began to contort with rage. His eyes narrowed and his head pounded. Quickly, Dragonite put one large paw on Mark's shoulder, not wanting to see what Mark would do. Dragonite had a feeling it wouldn't exactly have been pretty. Mark glanced up sharply. His previously innocent blue eyes were now colder than ever before. They sparkled not with the brightness of a clear blue sky, but with the cold, frozen ice realms of the extreme north and south. The eyes alone made Dragonite shiver; never something which could be done withy ease. Before Mark could erupt in more fiery words, Dragonite removed its paw from Mark's shoulder and down into the brown leather satchel Officer Jenny had given it.  
  
Fumbling for but a second, Dragonite took out the light, though bulky, parcel. Mark, after being offered the plain brown paper parcel, took it silently, his hands briefly touching Dragonite's paw. Dragonite shivered at the touch; they were freezing! Yet... That was not all. There was also a strange coldness that was conveyed by Mark's touch; and this went deeper than being physically cold for sure.  
  
The violent sound of paper being ripped by Mark interrupted Dragonite's thoughts. Mark took out the Pokedex slowly, as if studying something he had not seen before. The pokedex was quite a bulky object, and frankly, didn't look like more than a piece of junk. There was a large array of relatively tiny and complicated-looking buttons, with only small abbreviations to show there use. Plainly, it was mind-boggling. The screen looked quite tiny, no more than perhaps two by three centimeters. Mark pushed the comparatively large red button which bore the words "ON/OFF" in plain, albeit large, white text. While waiting for the machine, mark silently glanced at the various buttons, taking in each little detail, while recalling each button's use.  
  
For this machine, though still a prototype and very crude, was no stranger to Mark; this device had in fact been designed by Mr. Maros, Joseph's father. As such, Mark had often seen plans for this device. Though it was by all means a great invention, Mark usually had no interest in technology, especially since his parents had disappeared.  
  
The machine hummed to life suddenly; a sharp, cracking noise which immediately quieted down into a low, monosyllabic drone. The pokedex vibrated quickly in Mark's hands. At the same time, the tiny screen lit up, now a bright, fluorescent shade of blue, rather than the dull, lifeless brown which had previously inhabited the space. After a second of delay, the plain, black word "Pokedex" showed on the screen, the background of which was still the same shade of fluorescent blue.  
  
Mark sneered. Bringing up his tightly clenched fist, he suddenly slammed it down onto the "ON/OFF" switch violently, making a crunch on impact. Removing his fist, mark simply looked at the now lifeless machine. In a swift, fluid movement, mark took one step forward, and in the next instant, flung the bulky machine straight over the cliff! Dragonite didn't react. It just stood there, rooted by Mark's action. A loud bang was heard soon enough; the screeching and complaining of metal as it was bent and twisted on impact.  
  
"I need to help," stated Mark arrogantly in a low tone. "I need only myself. Now, come Dragonite!" he said, and began to walk towards Route 29, which of course led to Cherrygrove City. Dragonite was just glad the Pokedex hadn't simply exploded on impact. Slowly, it began to follow Mark.  
  
But Mark stopped. Dragonite quickly followed suit, waiting for Mark. "Dragonite," Mark began, "go to Joseph's place and tell him to come to Route 29. We'll leave as soon as he gets here," he planned, utterly unaware of Joseph's present condition.  
  
Slowly, Dragonite, who had forgotten completely about Joseph, reached once more into the pouch and grimly took out the only object inside, a neatly folded piece of paper. Mark stuck out a hand and hesitantly took it. Unfolding the paper, it read:  
  
Mark Witsinski,  
It is my unfortunate duty to inform you that Joseph Maros was present at the PTS during your battle with Mr. Despotta. He was knocked unconscious by the blast during the battle, and as a result is now in a coma. At this time, his condition is uncertain. He has also suffered several physical injuries, but the full extent of these are yet to be known. However, it is also my pleasure to tell you that doctors believe at this stage that Joseph should wake up from his coma in a few days, and that his physical injuries will heal in time. My deepest sympathies are with you at this troublesome time, Mark.  
  
Yours truly,  
Officer Jenny  
  
Dragonite watched Mark, holding its breath. Mark just kept staring at the page, so fiercely it was as if he was willing the page to disappear. Unsurprisingly, it did not. Slowly, Mark crunched up the letter in his fist. "...Joseph..." Mark murmured.  
  
It was certainly not the response Dragonite had been expecting. Instead of being angry, or sad, or anything like that, Mark seemed... Confused, almost. He seemed to be thinking. "Joseph...Joseph..." continued mark quietly as if in a trance. All of a sudden, his ice cold eyes shattered, and became warm again, lighting up. Then, just as suddenly, Mark's eyes flickered, and the warmth which had lit his eyes only moments before was driven out. His eyes froze and hardened, becoming cold once more.  
  
"Come on, Dragonite! Joseph will be fine!" he declared, though he sounded a tad uncertain. He quickly squashed that however. "He'll know where we're headed." He walked off without another word. Dragonite sighed, and looked back towards New Bark Town. Everything looked perfectly normal now. Dragonite frowned, or at least, its equivalent of a human frown. Using its considerably eyesight, it could see a lone figure... Concentrating, Dragonite could just make out the figure-Officer Jenny.  
  
She was standing outside the city's main gate, holding binoculars to her eyes, watching the two. When it thought Officer Jenny was looking at it, it nodded slowly. Dragonite saw Officer Jenny's head dip slightly, then rise again in answer. Dragonite turned, and hurried to catch up to Mark.  
  
Officer Jenny simply stood there. She could not help remembering Mark's eyes-they had lit up, if only for a second. "Perhaps there's hope for you yet, Mark Witsinski."  
  
  
  
Joseph's eyelids rose and his pupils once again received the glorious light of day. Sleep's dark wisps never remained around Joseph after he woke up, clouding his memory as it did to some. Immediately, he remembered what had transpired. The battle. Camerupt. Dragonite. The PTS. The blast. The destruction. Mr. Despotta. Mark. Mark! Joseph began to bolt upright only to be stopped by a strong, male hand.  
  
"Hey, you've come to!" a man, obviously a doctor, said cheerfully. He was wearing a white overcoat, navy pants and a pair of brown leather boots, but that was basically all Joseph could see. "Just lie down for a bit," the guy ordered. "Oh, and watch your arm-it's broken. I'll be right back, I'm just gonna get another fellow to come have a look at yaw, okay?" he asked, and left, winking, without waiting for an answer.  
  
Joseph lay back down slowly, watchful of his arm, and looked around. There was not much to see really. Joseph's bed was surrounded by a green curtain, blocking all view of the outside. The ceiling was plain white, much like the bed. The only other thing in sight was a small wooden table, bearing a clock. "I wonder what time it is..."he thought, as he twisted to look at the clock. "Three o'clock in the afternoon, 29th September," he read aloud. "Crikey! That means I've been unconscious for three days!" he exclaimed.  
  
The curtain was pulled back a little, though not enough for Joseph to see anything major. The first doctor entered with another, taller doctor, with the same uniform as the first, and someone who Joseph knew, though not personally, as Officer Jenny. "Yep, you were knocked unconscious. Apparently, a gate fell on ya," stated the first doctor rather cheerfully. "You slipped into a coma," he continued nonchalantly, ignoring Joseph's obvious concern. "The gate protected you from a lot of the small debris that was flying around, so you didn't get cut up to bad," he said. "Of course, your arm did get broken," he added.  
  
"Well, Joseph certainly seems fine," remarked the second doctor in a lower voice. "Especially considering he's just slipped out of a coma. His physical wounds won't be a problem," he told Joseph.  
  
"Yeah, and you just watch that arm of yours kid, you dig?" interrupted the first doctor with the ever present grin on his face. Joseph nodded.  
  
"Excuse me, gentlemen, but could I please speak with the patient? Alone?" asked Officer Jenny politely. The two doctors nodded and left without another word.  
  
"So, how're you feeling?" she asked. Joseph simply nodded, waiting to hear more. "Well, let's get right down to it. Mark's just gone through a lot recently, after his battle. There was some very sad news you see, and as a result, Mark has...changed. Let me fill you in on what's happened since Mark's battle," she said, and began to explain all.  
  
  
  
"Well, I take it you'll be going after Mark?" she asked knowingly. Joseph nodded only slightly, still taking in all of Officer Jenny's words; just as Officer Jenny had expected. Joseph naturally wanted to help his friend. "And heck does Mark need helping," she thought privately. "So, be careful. Like I've said, he's changed. He's grown more...angry, and...unpredictable. I think he'll need you more than ever now, Joseph," she told him. "But never give up hope on him. You'll understand when you meet him for yourself."  
  
Joseph at this point didn't really understand. But, at the same time, he knew that if she said there was something to look out for, Joseph was sure there was something to look out for. Something about Officer Jenny made him trust her more than anyone else in this matter. "Mark..." he thought sadly. "How will he react? Is he alright?" Questions ran through his head, but he quickly pushed them into an obscure part of his brain when he realised Officer Jenny was waiting for him.  
  
"The doctors?" Joseph asked, quickly glancing at the clock once more. It now read fifteen past three. He stood up, as did Officer Jenny. "Come on Joseph, you gotta believe in yourself man!" he though inwardly. As stupid as the thought may have sounded, it gave Joseph courage.  
  
"I'll deal with them," interrupted Officer Jenny, putting one hand on Joseph. "But for now, you must catch up to Mark," she said. She had a knack for understanding people, and it was in times like these that it really helped. She felt as if she knew Joseph and Mark. It was a strange feeling.  
  
"He left a few hours ago, so you'd best hurry. I'm sorry I can't take you there myself... But first-go to level 4, parking space 110. Grab the backpack from my motorcycle. Now go, Joseph. Good luck," she said, and gave him a little push. She knew that Mark needed Joseph if he was to be healed. He had caused chaos by himself for a day in the small town. She didn't even want to think about Mark, alone, in the big city.  
  
"Thanks!" Joseph smiled. Then, turning, he quickly ran off. "I'm coming, Mark. I'm coming." 


End file.
